Spearhead: Tragedies and Statistics
by Darksider
Summary: It's 2009, the Goa'uld War has raged for over ten years as Humanity and its allies continue to fight against the System Lords.
1. Default Chapter

  
  
  


Spearhead: Tragedies And Statistics  
  
  
  
  
  


**Cast  
**  


**Earth**

General Orin Stuart _ - Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, US Army_  
Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill - _Supreme Allied Commander Stargate Command (SAC-SGC), Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, USA_  
Lord Sir Henry Patterson - _Admiral of the Fleet, United Earth Navy_  
  


**Spearhead**

Brigadier General Carter - _Commanding Officer, Spearhead  
_  


**SG-Omega**

Colonel Kerr Avon - _Commanding Officer, SG-Omega_  
Major Ettore Capini - _2IC_  
Captain Jonas Quinn _- Chief Technical Officer, Special Projects Division_  
  


**Third Fleet**

Rear Admiral Kent - Senior Officer, Third Fleet, ENS Ark Royal  
  
  


**Goa'uld Union**

Bast _- Head of the Goa'uld Union_  
Hek'at _- First Prime to Bast_  
Lord Kiptakanae  
Lord Asphe'khat  
  


**Goa'uld Separatists**

Lord Yu  


  
**Gryphon**

Queen Anne of the Sword - _Her Royal Highness, the Kingdom of Gryphon_  
King Yamato of the Sword - _His Royal Highness, the Kingdom of Gryphon_  
General Tadeshi Roberts of the Fist - _Supreme Commander of the Troops_

Brigadier General Franklin Scott - _CO, 23rd Heavy Infantry Division (Rapid Reaction Force), SGC_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Chapter 1  
Eye of the Storm**  
  


**10:00 ZULU  
October 3rd, 2009  
United Earth World Council Headquarters, Greenwich, England.**  
  


"This Council is now in session." Prime Minister Grant announced as she banged the small wooded gavel once, the low murmur in the chamber faded away as the various heads of state and their staff shifted their attention to her.

The World Council Chamber was a large, circular hall ringed with concentric tiers of benches, sliced into small sections for each representative nation. One side of the round chamber was flattened, against which, a raised die was placed where the Chairman of the Council sat, in this case, Prime Minister Grant of Great Britain. The Council Chamber was lavishly appointed, with thick, green carpet, rich, oak furniture and gold plated fixtures. Its carefully ornate appearance hid the varied and numerous high tech installations in the tables and walls. Each bench section was crammed with a computer and touch screen interface, video camera and secure communication unit, allowing each member to access any information or person in the world. Large plasma screen displays were set into ornate frames and camouflaged as works of art.  


Elizabeth Grant took a sip from her glass of water and touched her computer display, bringing up the agenda for the session. She had already studied it in detail but she glanced at it one more time before looking up and addressing the Council. "I'm sure you've all taken a look at the agenda for this meeting but are there any items anyone wishes to put before this Council for later discussion?" Part of the Council Charter stated that any nation could bring any subject to the Council's attention it wished for due consideration by the various Council members.

The South African Prime Minister stood up as her computer display signaled his desire to speak. She nodded in his direction. "Prime Minister Otamba..."

Otamba smiled graciously and cleared his throat. "Madam Chairman, I'd like to add a brief discussion to the agenda about the increasing trade shortfall of my nation, as well as that of the Gulf States."

Grant suppressed a sigh and nodded. A downside in the influx of alien technology and mineral resources from other worlds in the Alliance meant that several countries that provided strategic minerals to the world at large were currently suffering an imbalance as prices dropped in addition to demand. The imbalance had only begun to be noticeable in the past year or so, and even then barely so, but clearly the trade shortfall would continue to grow if something didn't change soon.

"Of course, Mr Prime Minister." She replied as her Council aide beside her used his computer to attach the subject to the agenda. Otamba nodded in satisfaction and sat down.

No-one else spoke and so Grant moved on. "Very well, to business. Members of the Council, the first item of today involves a briefing on the current status of the war with the System Lords. I'd like to remind you all that this is a Alpha-level briefing and therefore not subject to discussion outside of this Chamber." She turned to her left and set her gaze upon the handful of military officers stood against the wall. "General O'Neill..."

Taking a deep breath, O'Neill stepped forward, towards the center of the Chamber. This was not his first top-level briefing by any means but that didn't mean he had come to like them any more than he did in the beginning. Give me a cohort of Jaffa over a roomful of politicians any day. Hammond, how the hell did you manage to work with these people without taking a gun to them?

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen." He began politely and impassively, showing no trace of his feelings on his face. "This briefing will begin with an overall look at the current conflict and then afterwards, we'll go over it again in more detail and take any questions you might have."

He turned towards the massive wallscreen behind Prime Minister Grant as it flickered to life and displayed a galactic map. Spots of red, blue and green appeared across the map, the red areas covering the vast majority of the Galaxy with small but significant concentrations of blue and green in several separate places confined to one quadrant of the Galaxy.

"Thanks to the efforts of Ambassador Shiv, the Diplomatic Corp and the recent addition of Gryphon, the Alliance has come to comprise of five major worlds of industrial technology comparable to our own and twelve worlds of smaller populations and various industrial status that, although of low technological ability, provide the Alliance with significant manpower, mineral resources and strategic forward bases. Industrial output on Earth and the other four 'Forge worlds' is increasing exponentially, along with the training of ground troops and naval personnel."

"In the past three years, neither side has made any great advances into the oppositions territory, even though the System Lords possess a superior fleet in terms of numbers and striking power. We've managed to maintain this stalemate by keeping Bast and the various System Lords in her Union on the defensive, striking only where they are weak, never where they are strong. In addition to this, we have being careful to leave the Separatist faction of the Goa'uld alone, giving them no cause to unite with Bast and her followers."

"As per the primary strategy, we intend to maintain this status quo for as long as possible while we build our forces to a level that will allow us to begin Operation Spring Clean, a new series of offensive strikes against the System Lords designed to eliminate the Goa'uld fleet as an offensive force and liberate the numerous cultures that they currently rule over. We expect this to take anywhere from three to five years, best case scenario. Our worst case scenarios project this situation lasting as long as a hundred years but realistically, we expect Spring Clean to last from fifteen to twenty years."

As this figure sank into the awareness of the assembled heads of state, the stunned realization that they possibly faced another twenty years of war showed clearly upon their faces. O'Neill gave a slight, grim smile as his studied the Council members.

"I am confident that we can win this war but this isn't somebody we can just sweep aside in a couple of months, " He continued, hammering the point home. "The Goa'uld are a highly advanced race of parasites that command a massive fleet of ships and millions of troops. That fact that we are still here to discuss this is a testament to the skill of our soldiers, the internecine warfare that is rife among the System Lords and, of course, plain old dumb luck."

A small titter of nervous laughter swept through the chamber. Nobody ever liked to depend on luck but they were all just glad it seemed to be with them when it counted.

"Effectively, this conflict is currently at a stalemate." O'Neill continued. "We lack the strength to decisively take and hold Goa'uld territory and with one or two exceptions, the Alliance is made up of worlds under the Protected Planets Treaty, and thus, removed from direct threat of attack from the System Lords. With neither side able to destroy strategic enemy targets, this conflict has become a Cold War with both side making small strikes at assets they can attack without falling foul of the aforementioned 'rules', I suppose you could call it."

For the next fifteen minutes, O'Neill went over the various troop deployments, both on and off-world, the assignment of ships to the worlds under serious threat from the Goa'uld, the dispersion of the Fleet among the Alliance worlds and the implications of various strategies that demand that they maintain the status quo as it exists while they recruit more member worlds and expand their forces.

"...And that's the situation as it stands today, ladies and gentlemen." O'Neil finished. "Are there any questions?"

Several council members touched their computers, sending their request to be heard to the Chairperson. Elizabeth Grant looked at her display and read the first name off the list. "The Chair recognizes Prime Minister Montagne of France..."

The small, rotund Prime Minister inclined his head. "Thank you Madam Chair..." He turned his gaze to the center of the Chamber. "General O'Neill, the picture you paint is an uncertain one...once more I note the conspicuous absence of some of the more powerful alien races who purport to be our allies in this war. Have we made any more progress towards a true alliance with the advanced races, the Asgard, the Tollan, the Adenans...hell, even the Susparti...can't they see the benefits of the Alliance?"

O'Neill nodded resignedly. This matter was brought up in practically every major meeting. The Diplomatic Corp had spent a great deal of effort in the past five years trying to convince the more advanced races in the Galaxy to make a stand against the Goa'uld but they had received nothing more than polite disinterest. Disinterest from everyone that is except the Asgard and to some extent, the Tollan who, thanks to their numerous interactions with Stargate personnel, were beginning to approach a more practical attitude to Galactic relations. But then I'd always known the advanced races would be more pro-active if their comfortable, idyllic lifestyles were threatened.

"You're right, Mr Prime Minister. Most of the advanced races are so confident in their technological advantage over the Goa'uld that they are blinded to the fact that us 'lesser' races are not so fortunate. We cannot rely on them and we have no plans to do so, except for the Asgard, Mr Prime Minister. I can assure you, if it were not for extenuating circumstances, there would be any number of Asgard vessels in orbit at this very minute."

"Ah, you refer to the...'Replicators', General." Montagne clarified.

O'Neill nodded. "They are fighting for their Galaxy and ours and the last thing we want is to distract them from that fight, though you also may be aware that we actually dispatched a team of military advisors to help them in that war. I want to point out that the Asgard have laws that prevent them from giving us advanced technology, and that their Fleet Commander, Thor, managed to divert 'official' attention from their High Council when we recovered wreckage from the Asgard vessel that crashed into the Pacific ocean. With that act, they essentially gave us 'unofficial' permission to reverse engineer their technology and incorporate it into our ships. Combining Asgard tech with Human tech and that of the other space faring members of the Alliance, most notably that of the Sintesians, has allowed us to make massive strides forward in developing combat capable warships and planetary defenses."

Montagne and several other Council members grinned at the overt demonstration of alien political maneuvering. It made them think that Earth would fit in with the rest of the Galaxy just fine, assuming they survived to reach that point.

"I stand corrected then, General, the Asgard 'officially' protect us through treaties while 'unofficially' helping us out in any way they can without nullifying those same treaties." The Prime Minister concluded.

O'Neill nodded. "That's about right, sir."

Grant saw that the French Prime Minister had finished and looked to her display. Several ministers had disappeared from the query list, their questions having been asked by Montagne. "The Chair recognizes Prime Minister Kaneda of Japan."

The diminutive Prime Minister gave an abbreviated bow of thanks and frowned at O'Neill. "General, you say you are waiting until you have built your forces up before you begin a new offensive against the System Lords. If I may ask, what kind of timetable are you working to?"

O'Neill glanced at his aide, who accessed her computer to retrieve the relevant information. The wall display behind him changed and showed a projected order of battle and a rough outline of the offensive battle plan. O'Neill looked up at the Japanese Prime Minister. "Which any way you look at it, the System Lords outnumber us at least one hundred to one in terms of ships and manpower. Fortunately for us, this number is deceptive as the vast majority of their forces is firstly, kept tied down in pacification duty on occupied worlds and secondly, used as defensive and offensive forces against other System Lords."

Leaning forward, O'Neill tried to convey the precarious knife-edge the war was being conducted on. "Mr Prime Minister, since day one, we've only struck at the System Lords united under Bast's leadership, all the while using Tok'ra and Rebel Jaffa forces to create dissention among the other separatist System Lords. Keeping the majority of the Goa'uld from uniting is really the only thing that is keeping us alive at the minute."

"To answer your question, I currently have almost eighteen hundred thousand troops under arms here on Earth and another three million spread between the other eighteen worlds of the Alliance, this number does not include available troops native to the other worlds. The Navy currently comprises of sixteen destroyers, five battleships and three carriers. Fighter strength is, at the last count, thirty-two active duty squadrons of fighters and eighteen of bombers. The other worlds have begun construction of their own vessels using designs and technology we have shared with them, and the shipyards we have helped them to construct but they are still getting up to speed and they only have two squadrons of destroyers among them. For 'Spring Clean' to have any chance of overall success, it will take us another five to ten years of construction and training before I felt completely confident in declaring all out war with the System Lords."  
  


* * * * * * * * * *

Two hours later, the Council meeting broke for lunch, the various ministers and aides scattering and meeting in groups of various factions and at varying levels of power. Chairman Grant ignored most of this and made her way from the dais towards O'Neill, who was conferring quietly with an Air Force Colonel.

As she approached, O'Neill and the colonel stood up and came respectfully to attention. "Chairman Grant..." O'Neill acknowledged.

Grant smiled kindly and gestured for them to sit and she claimed a chair in front of them. "Impressive presentation, General. You plan to command millions of men and women across a battlefield of a thousand star systems." She shook her head with no little wonder. "You think big, General, I'll give you that."

O'Neill gave a small nod. "We've lost a lot of people in this war, to date, ma'am. The casualties we'll see before this war is over will make that previous figure pale by comparison. I doubt I'll live long enough to see a Galaxy free of the Goa'uld but I can at least put us on course and get a few hits in of my own."

Grant's relaxed manner turned into something harder as she heard the General's words and saw his impassive demeanor. She had come to know O'Neill fairly well over the past six years since they had met at a high-level briefing a short time after Daniel Jackson's funeral. She had noticed that he had been hit hard by the loss and that the death of General Hammond less than three years ago had hit him just as hard, if not harder. He had an edge about him nowadays that made people's blood run cold sometimes.

As O'Neill had progressed in rank over the years, Hammond had steadily lost his health and gradually removed himself from all command operations, ceding his responsibilities to his protégé, as it were. First O'Neill took over as CINC-SGC(West) at Cheyenne Mountain, then after General Hammond had died peacefully in his bed, surrounded by his family and friends, O'Neill became SAC-SGC, Supreme Allied Commander of all Stargate operations, effectively making him one of the most important men in the Galaxy.

O'Neill was still jovial among his friends but those who knew him well had noticed the remoteness and detachment that appeared more and more in his bearing and manner. The man was effectively carrying the fate of the Galaxy on his shoulders but, as his friends might attest, it was steadily killing him, as it had Hammond.

Internally Grant rallied against the Fates that would place such a crushing task in one man's hands but she was not worried for the Galaxy. She knew that O'Neill would bear up under the strain and deliver them all from the threat of the System Lords. No, she was afraid that by the time the war was over, the man that they knew O'Neill to be would be lost to them.

"It's a terrible thing to know that your decisions hold such finality to those millions of men and women." She replied sadly.

Colonel Krupskaya, who had been sitting silently beside O'Neill, stirred slightly. "We understand the need, and the cost, Madam Chairman." She replied firmly. "We knew that when we put on our uniforms."

Grant nodded in something like awe at the woman whose words simply underscored the dedication of the people under O'Neill's command. She looked at O'Neill and took a deep breath. "General, I want to have a brief word with you about the upcoming meeting at the end of this month with the Monarchy on Gryphon."

O'Neill nodded in immediate understanding. "You want to go."

Grant smiled. "Yes." She replied, simply.

"I've already made the necessary arrangements, ma'am. Ambassador Shiv is already aware of your 'desire' to be present and has notified the relevant people on Gryphon." O'Neill smiled slightly. "Your security people aren't happy one bit, though."

She sighed in frustration. "The fate of the world revolves around that Stargate and I still haven't had a single damned trip through the thing! My security team still says that it is too much of a risk!"

Raising his hands in surrender, O'Neill chuckled. "Well, no longer, Ma'am. You now have clearance to proceed, just...watch the first step, it's a doozy."

Grant laughed out loud, causing a slight stir among the remaining diplomats in the Council Chamber. "Thank you, General. I shall see you later then."

She rose from her chair and made her way swiftly towards the exits with a very apparent spring in her step.

O'Neill watched her go and his smile turned into a frown as he remembered something from the morning's strategic briefing. "Colonel, isn't SG-Beta...?"

As usual, his aide had showed her supernatural talent for reading her bosses mind and was already accessing her PDA for the relevant information. "SG-Beta launched approximately thirty minutes ago, sir. According to the ops timeline, they should be commencing 'Long Punch' any time now."

With a small growl of frustration at being stuck on Earth instead of on the front lines, O'Neill started walking towards the exit. "We're done here for the day, Kathy, let's head to the damned Ring. I want to see how the operation goes."

Based in Cheltenham, the Ring, sometimes disparagingly referred to as the Doughnut, was the main headquarters for Britain's military command and control facilities and essentially the British answer to the Pentagon and when in this quarter of the world, it was O'Neill's preferred base of operations.

"Yes, sir." She replied firmly and, through her PDA, notified the General's driver to get ready for a fast transit.  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  
  


**11:45 ZULU  
Planet PX529, Territory of System Lord Melnos**  
  


Colonel Andy Thorn grimaced painfully as he threw himself bodily over an overturned cargo container. Staff blasts slammed into the container, the impact almost deafening in such close proximity. "I'm getting too old for this shit." He cursed to no one in particular as he quickly cleared and reloaded his P-90. The radio was filled with urgent calls for assistance from the soldiers of SG-Beta, who were spread throughout the forest in this small section of valley. Movement to his left caught Thorn's eye and he brought his weapon up defensively but just as quickly relaxed as his second in command threw himself to the ground alongside him in a cloud of dust.

"Howdy, Major, lovely day we're having, isn't?" Thorn greeted him cheerfully.

The deeply orange star beat its intense rays down upon the sparsely forested valley giving everything a distinct red hue that seemed appropriate considering the amount of bloodshed going on in the valley that lead away from extensive mining operations and a Pra'kesh construction facility.

Tok'ra spies had finally managed to locate the world where Bast was producing the Pra'kesh, the 'Scorpion' machines that were proving to be hellishly effective against the Spearhead and SGC troops. Almost as soon as General Carter had been given the co-ordinates, she had quickly gathered her forces and launched an attack.

The data the Tok'ra had been able to provide showed the Stargate situated in small open field, surrounded by thick forest, at the base of a low mountain range. The construction facility was situated on the other side of the mountains as a security measure against explosives being sent through the Stargate. A fairly wide valley, also thick with trees, wormed it's way through the mountain range for almost three kilometers before opening out into a level plain were what was essentially a small city composed of factories and living quarters, sat. The factories themselves were heavily guarded with a thick defensive belts and numerous Jaffa, all in addition to a single Goa'uld Mothership in orbit. In a straight up attack, it would have taken as many as five SG-Assault teams to make any kind of dent in the defenses and so the tactician's at Spearhead had found another way to make the attack using a new technique they had recently been experimenting with, codenamed Long Punch.

Colonel Thorn, Major Chernov and majority of SG-Beta had made a Stargate transit to PX529 and then proceeded on its mission, making its way through the valley, laying down tactical navigational beacons that were the key to 'Long Punch'. There had been only one more beacon to be placed when Murphy struck and all hell broke loose. A Jaffa patrol, scouting for an entire Cohort that was apparently returning from the outside the valley, had come across one of the eight man teams and shots were fired. Alerted to the presence of Earth soldiers in their midst, Jaffa were beginning to pour out of the factory and mines, leaving SG-Beta stuck in the middle of the valley with Jaffa in front and behind them.

Thorn had the sneaking suspicion that it might all have been a trap.

"I have had better days, Colonel!" Major Chernov replied grimly. "Captain Strathclyde believes he saw some Jaffa trying to get a Scorpion or two up and running back at the factory."

Colonel Thorn coughed in the thick dust the Major's fall had disturbed. "Shit. Get Third Platoon up here to provide cover with the 'chains' and 'chunkers'!" He ordered briskly, referring to the half-dozen small, light vehicles that SG-Beta had been given for this mission. Each Combat Assault Vehicle was essentially a three-man 4x4 armed with GAU-8 'chain' gun and a .50 caliber 'chunker' heavy machine gun. While armored against Jaffa infantry fire, they weren't tanks and they couldn't stand up to a Scorpion but they were the most powerful units Thorn had.

While the Major returned fire and called for Third Platoon over the radio, Thorn had pulled the last navigation beacon from his pocket. It essentially looked like an oversized pen, about six inches long and two centimeters thick. After twisting the top section to activate it, he pushed it into the dirt next to him, leaving the top two inches clear of the ground.

"You were supposed to put that over there, Colonel." Chernov commented evenly, nodding his head towards the twelve Jaffa firing from behind a small wall at the outermost edge of the Factory perimeter.

Thorn snorted in amusement. "Why don't you go over there and stick it in the ground then?" He shook his head slightly at the big Russian. "This is close enough."

Placing his finger to his earpiece, Thorn activated his radio unit. "Spearhead Command, Spearhead Command, this is Beta-Six-Actual...we are cut off, repeat, we are cutoff from the Stargate. We've laid down the final tac-nav beacon and the net is on-line, I suggest you commence Long Punch."

He smiled wryly. "I'd also be kind of obliged if you'd call the Fleet and ask them to pick us up."  
  
  


**11:55 ZULU  
Command Center, Spearhead**

In the Command Center, technicians monitored the battle from the UAV's orbiting high above the facilities. Sergeant Harris, sat at the primary console, was listening intently to the feed coming in over his headset.

"Report." Brigadier General Samantha Carter, current commander of Spearhead, ordered calmly.

Harris spun round in his chair. "We just received word from SG-Beta...the Colonel reports laying the last beacon but is now being cutoff from the Stargate. He recommends we launch now and asks that the Third Fleet task force retrieve them instead."

"Hell." Carter replied, consciously unclenching her fists that were balled tightly in frustration. "Alright, Sergeant, contact Admiral Kent, get him moving."

Sergeant Harris looked over at the technician sitting at the communication station and snapped his fingers. The tech nodded and began to type the necessary message into the computer that was incorporated into the network of long-range communication devices that had been appropriated from numerous Goa'uld sources and were now being used for Earth's benefit. Each planet and major capital ship in the Alliance was fitted with Human/Goa'uld hybrid communication equipment, allowing instantaneous communication across the Galaxy.

Carter turned towards her 2IC, Colonel DeSoto, who was stood beside her. "Commence Long Punch, Colonel."

DeSoto nodded and started giving orders into his headset radio. Two kilometers away at the Stargate Facility, the Stargate itself had been moved outside of the Facility, along a specially designed cradle that slid through a side door in the Gate Room. This feature was installed during the rebuilding of the Gate Facility after it was partially destroyed during the Jaffa attack on Spearhead, soon after they were operational. The Jaffa had demolished the Facility to allow transit of large vehicles, namely the Pra'kesh Scorpion tanks used in that battle. Colonel Lewis had noted after the battle, that being able to send their own vehicles through the Gate would require room to maneuver and so the Stargate Corp of Engineers had designed and built the mobile cradle when rebuilding the Stargate Facility on Spearhead.

About a hundred yards in front of the Stargate sat three large, rectangular missile packs, all of which were aimed at the active wormhole. The technicians receiving orders from the Colonel in the command center activated the firing system and waited. Seconds later, a specially modified Tomahawk cruise missile erupted from the first pack and flew straight into the Stargate. Seconds later, another missile flew outward from the second pack, swiftly followed by a third from the last pack. As soon as the third missile disappeared, another Tomahawk erupted from the first quad missile pack.

In the space of five minutes, twelve Tomahawk missiles were fired nine thousand light-years to attack the Pra'kesh factory.  
  


* * * * * * * * * *

**12:01 ZULU  
ENS Ark Royal, 1000au from PX529**

In the dimly lit Command and Control center onboard the ENS 'Ark Royal', Rear Admiral Kent, Commander of the Third Fleet suppressed a frown as he studied the massive holographic display of the Flag Plot in the center of the circular command center. The display was ringed with computer consoles, as was the outer bulkhead of the chamber. The display currently showed a wire frame representation of the planet with numerous red blips in orbit.

The Third Fleet had spent the past five hours waiting just outside the solar system, while SG-Beta launched its attack. Third Fleet, built along similar lines of the first two fleets in the Earth Navy comprised of the battleships ENS Montana and ENS Shinano, along with six destroyers that accompanied the carrier ENS Ark Royal. A the minute however, only the Montana and two destroyers had joined the Ark Royal at PX529 the rest had stayed behind to provide cover for Gryphon, Third Fleet's current duty station.

Having fought in several skirmishes and full on battles against the Goa'uld fleet, Rear Admiral Kent knew that his task force was more than a match for a single Goa'uld Hat'ak class Mothership, unfortunately, his scanners revealed two Hat'ak Class Motherships in high orbit above PX529, making their relative strengths far more even that he would have liked. Regardless, the urgent request for pickup from Colonel Thorn meant that the Third Fleet was now screaming in towards PX529 and a confrontation with the Goa'uld whose outcome would be far from assured.

The Ark Royal's Tactical Action Officer approached the Admiral, data-pad in hand. "Admiral..."

Kent turned away from the display to face the tall, almost gaunt, middle-aged man. "Yes, Commander Farrow?"

"The Elint section reports that we've encountered one of the Motherships before. It's apparently one of System Lord Ak'em's birds. SL-028 in our library." The TAO reported. The Elint, or Electronic Intelligence section, maintains a massive computer library of all the emission signatures from any and all spaceships an Earth vessel encounters, much like the library submarines keep on the noise signatures on other submarines, allowing them to recognize that same vessel if they ever cross it's path again. "The other bird's unknown to us but carries a similar signature to SL-028. Tactical is adding it to the library as SL-044 and is designating them Hostile 1 and Hostile 2, sir."

"Ak'em is it?" Kent repeated thoughtfully. "His people aren't the brightest bunch around. All right, Commander, launch the troopships now and send a Sabre squadron as escort. Order Captain Frost to take the Montana and the destroyer screen and engage the Mothership belonging to Ak'em."

He glanced at a secondary video screen from which his Flag Captain, Amanda Tyler, was observing events in C&C. She was currently up on the bridge, commanding the ship but maintained an open vid-link to Admiral Kent. "The Ark Royal is too thin skinned for that kind of fight so we will hold position here but we'll launch a bomber strike against the other Mothership, hopefully keeping it occupied. If we split them up and take them piecemeal, we might just survive this after all."

"Perhaps we should divert a flight of bombers to support SG-Beta's extraction?" Captain Tyler considered in reply.

Admiral Kent glanced at the tactical display and nodded. One flight of bombers wouldn't alter the equation up here much but it might help SG-Beta a lot more. "Agreed."

Commander Farrow nodded in acknowledgement and began to disperse orders to the fleet.  
  
  


* * * * * * *  
  


Onboard the bridge of the Goa'uld Mothership the humans had designated 'SL-028', Lord Akem was in a foul mood. Having been roused from his sarcophagus to learn that the Tau'ri soldiers had blasted through his defenses on the planet and were trying to destroy Bast's production facilities. The only good news at the minute was that his First Prime had the Tau'ri forces trapped and unable to escape.

He leaned forward in his throne and smiled grimly. "Move the ship above the co-ordinates of the trapped Tau'ri and prepare to fire upon the surface."

The Jaffa pilot bowed slightly in assent and activated the flight controls. The Mothership smoothly glided out of formation with the other vessel and moved to a lower orbit, nearer towards the planets surface.

"We are in position, my Lord." The Jaffa intoned.

Ak'em grinned and suppressed a desire to rub his hands in delightful anticipation. "Excellent, open..."

Before Ak'em could finish the command to open fire, the command console started beeping furiously. The Jaffa at the controls frowned and pressed several buttons and moved his hands across the interface. On the main screen, the scenic view of the planet from orbit was replaced by a tactical schematic of the inner solar system. Several red blips were moving rapidly towards the Mothership.

"What is it?" Ak'em demanded impatiently.

The Jaffa winced as he studied the displays. "It is a group of Tau'ri vessels, my Lord. They are heading this way." The console beeped once more. The Jaffa glanced at the display and turned back to Ak'em. "They are deploying fighters, my Lord."

Ak'em stood up, incensed and completely forgetting about the SG-Beta troopers on the surface. "Launch the udajeets! Destroy those ships!"  
  


* * * * * * *  
  


Thorn studied the Jaffa moving behind cover 15 meters across open ground. Neither side could make any headway without being slaughtered nor could SG-Beta retreat and so things had settled into a stalemate or at least a temporary one until the Jaffa brought up their big guns and managed to get a Scorpion or two up and running.

His radio crackled suddenly and Sgt Harris's voice, calling from Spearhead Command, filled the relative silence. "Beta-Six, Beta-Six, Tomahawk stream launched...repeat, we have launched the stream. Time on target, three minutes."

Thorn looked at Chernov knowingly and the Russian smiled broadly, even as he activated his own radio. "All Beta units, this is Major Chernov. Tomahawk's incoming! Fire in the hole, repeat, fire in the hole!"

As the two men settled down behind cover and waited for the Tomahawks to arrive, Thorn chuckled quietly at the Major who seemed to have a satisfied expression on his face. "Fire in the hole...?"

Chernov shrugged. "I don't get to say it all that often. I like to savor the moments when I can." He replied.

Thorn laughed outright. "I bet you practice saying it in front the mirror, as well."

Opening his mouth to deny any such thing, Chernov was interrupted by a steadily increasing whine of a group of small turbojet engines approaching fast. Both men grinned in anticipation and tucked themselves deeper into cover as the cruise missiles roared overhead.

* * *

Each cruise missile had emerged from the Stargate and immediately search for the navigational beacons SG-Beta had emplaced along the valley floor, allowing the intelligent weapons to leapfrog from beacon to beacon, maneuvering safely through the mountainous terrain to find the Pra'kesh factory.

As the stream of missiles turned onto the terminal leg of their journey, the system operators at Spearhead Command began to designate target for each missile using the UAV to communicate targeting instructions to each missile.

Had the Jaffa known this, they could have tried to shoot down the UAV and blunted the accuracy of the attack immeasurably but as it stood, the Jaffa had no idea of the nature of the command and controls systems of the Tau'ri and thus, the cruise missiles were told what to aim for with deadly accuracy.

The world seemed to explode as the first wave of three tomahawks nosed downward and fanned out, each targeting a major component factory building. Three massive explosions blossomed outward, the walls and roof of each building erupting in a ball of flame. Shockwave after shockwave rippled outward and over the battlefield as each cruise missile found it's designated target with unerring accuracy and complete devastation.

Four waves and twelve Tomahawks later, relative silence returned and the Jaffa soldiers rose from cover to take stock of what had happened. A number of buildings still stood but these were exceptions for all of the factory facilities and assembly buildings were utterly destroyed.  
  


"All right!" One of the Beta troopers called out jubilantly over the radio.

Colonel Thorn nodded in agreement as he studied the wreckage of the Pra'kesh factory with satisfaction. Major Chernov, however, was less concerned with the success of the cruise missiles than he was with the relatively untouched Jaffa army now climbing out from cover.

"Colonel..." The Russian called out. "Having nothing left to defend, I think the Jaffa have decided on an all-out attack."

With a full-throated roar, the massed ranks of Jaffa rushed out into the open field between them and the Beta soldiers, staff weapons firing from the hip. They were met with a wall of bullets as the thinly spread line of SG-Beta opened fire.

"I wonder if this is how your Custer felt?" Chernov cursed as two Beta troopers skidded up next to his and Thorn's position with a heavy machine gun and began to fire steadily into the enemy ranks. Not only were Jaffa charging towards them from the remains of the factories but also that other group of Jaffa was still closing in from the entrance to the valley. SG-Beta was being hit on two fronts and if Fleet didn't pick them up soon, the Assault team was going to need some new personnel.

Thorn, about to reply, closed his mouth and cocked his head to one side as his ears noticed a new sound. "Screw Custer! Here comes the cavalry!"

Five CAV's seemed to fly out of the forest and into the no man's land between the hastily drawn lines of each side. The gunners in each combat assault vehicle swung their weapons towards the Jaffa and fired as one, cutting into the enemy like a scythe, raking their fire across the massed Jaffa and leaving the dead strewn across the open field like garbage.

The fearless Jaffa charged onwards, focusing their fire on the assault vehicles. The CAV's, however, were too fast and well armored against staff blasts. Skidding wildly, CAV's cut heavily into the onrushing Jaffa and the troops of SG-Beta breathed a sigh of relief as the CAV's gave them breathing room to regroup, gather their dead and prepare for pick-up.

That relief quickly proved to be short-lived as two CAV's suddenly exploded without warning. Not knowing where the fire had come from, the three remaining CAV's scattered like startled quail and zipped behind the scattered remains of the factories. The radio net crackled with a frantic call from Captain Strathclyde who was high up on the ridge of the valley with a sniper team, providing observation and long-range fire support... "It's a bloody Scorpions! I count four, repeat, four surviving Scorpions coming in from the west."

The captain had barely finished his report when Colonel Thorn spotted the first Scorpion round the shattered remains of an assembly building. It steadily turned towards the Beta troops and began to fire into their ranks.

Major Chernov gave a vile curse and activated his radio. "All units, fall back to point Charlie, repeat, fall back to point Charlie for pick-up. CAV section, concentrate your fire on the Scorpions and cover our retreat."

As the various units of SG-Beta responded, a new voice broke in on the command frequency.

"Beta-Six, Beta-Six, this Pegasus flight of four, inbound, call sign 'Hammer'..." A confident, upper-class British voice announced. "What is your situation, over?"  
  


* * * * * * *

Lt Commander Scott, previously of the Royal Navy but now of Third Fleet, Earth Navy Fighter Corp, pushed his hand controller forward, sending the Pegasus bomber into a steep dive as he passed into the atmosphere of PX529. Glancing back momentarily, he saw that the other three bombers of his flight were still in formation.

Looking directly up, towards space, he could see the numerous trails of the slower Orca transports and the nimble Sabre fighters as they entered the atmosphere at a shallower angle.

"Hammer-One, this is Beta-Six, it's good to hear your voice." Colonel Thorn replied over the radio. "All SG-Beta units are falling back to nav point Charlie. We are fully engaged on two fronts but our main concern is the four surviving Scorpion tanks closing in on us from what remains of the factory. We were supposed to have Tomahawk's supporting us for this eventuality but the Jaffa control the Gate and are blowing away anything that comes through. We need you to take them out, Hammer..."

The ground seemed to fill the entire view as the bombers lost altitude rapidly. Scott clenched his guts tight and his systems operator sitting behind him grunted audibly as he pulled the Pegasus sharply out of his dive. They had inertial dampers on the craft but even they couldn't fully damp a 20g turn in atmosphere. Suddenly, they were flying straight and level, less than one hundred feet off the deck, at close to Mach 5. Hammer-Two, -Three and -Four were tucked in tight behind Hammer-One, having maintained formation even through the dive and abrupt leveling off.

"Roger that, Beta-Six. We'll take care of the Scorpions, we've got four JDAM's with their names on them, just get to nav point Charlie and get ready for pickup. Orca's are enroute. Hammer-one, out."  
  


* * * * * * *  
  


As the massive capital ships closed ponderously, the swifter fighters sped towards each other with deadly intent. The Motherships had both launched their full complements of Death Gliders, close to sixty fighters in all. Twelve had broken off towards the planet to intercept the transports, fighter escorts and bombers assigned to rescue SG-Beta but the rest had headed straight towards the three full squadrons of Sabres and two squadrons of Pegasus bombers.

The senior fighter commander, Lt Colonel Xi Peng watched his 'Heads Up Display' intently as the range between the two clouds of fighter closed rapidly. "Get ready for the Gliders to make their move!" He ordered over the 'all fighters' communication channel.

As the range closed to 2,000 km, the formation of Death Glider's broke apart into small, two ship elements that made radical maneuvers while continuing to close the range. Peng snorted in reluctant respect. The Jaffa may have crap equipment but they were smart and gutsy. Apart from the shields they now mounted, the Death Gliders were essentially the same craft the System Lords had been using for almost a thousand years. The fighters and bombers of the Earth Navy Fighter Corp looked superficially similar to their initial designs of almost ten years ago but underneath the surface, they were very different animals.

The F-401 MkIII Sabre Space Superiority fighter no longer carried the replica Death Glider energy cannons but two light ion cannons, similar to those mounted in the capital ships of the fleet. More importantly, a little less than a year ago, for long range striking power, the tech's back home had finally delivered the Anti-Fighter Missile. The AFM's were like AMRAAMs but instead of moveable vanes for steering in atmosphere, they had maneuvering thrusters and a heavy flechette warhead. The AFM's would close in on an enemy fighter and then exploded, sending a spray of dense metal outward, causing serious damage to any fighter in the flechette's path.

When first used in combat, the AFM had cut a swath through the ranks of the Death Glider forces and on the whole, the AFM was responsible for a lot of the successes of the Earth Navy to date. It hadn't taken long, however, for Hek'at and his Jaffa to work out a few counter-tactics that, although not overly spectacular, did reduce the effectiveness of the AFM by a fair margin. One other downside was that the flechette warheads were pretty useless against Motherships.

But since the Death Gliders had no long-range missiles themselves, the Sabre's could fire their Anti-Fighter Missiles with impunity until the Jaffa closed the range sufficiently for the Glider's to engage with their energy cannons.

As the range fell to 1,500 km, Lt Colonel Peng calmly and with little fanfare, gave the order to fire. A massive wave of missiles rippled out from the Earth Navy fighters, and in the frictionless, vacuum of space, accelerated at insane velocities towards the Death Gliders.

The Jaffa could do nothing but wrench their Gliders into hard turns, hoping to get out of the path of the exploding flechette missiles. Many Jaffa evaded successfully but a significant percentage was still destroyed, enough to even the numbers between the two forces. The Jaffa, however, were well trained and although shook by their losses, they regrouped swiftly and continued to bore in, to close the gap before the Earth Navy fighters could fire another wave of AFMs.

Peng was cheered immensely at the results of the AFM but acknowledged that the Jaffa they were facing were well trained and had regrouped in good order, even though word from up high said they belonged to a second rate System Lord.

Shaking off these errant thoughts, Peng shifted tighter into his cockpit for there was no more time to think as the two clouds of fighters met in a flurry of gunfire and explosions.  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


The ENS Montana swept in towards Akem's Mothership, gun batteries blazing. The Montana, an 'Ares' class battleship, was a rectangular vessel, almost 1400 meters in length, with a tapered bow and smooth edges, giving it a 'monolithic' appearance. Over twice as big as a 'Prometheus' class destroyer, the Montana mounted twenty 'first generation' ion cannons, in ten twin mount turrets. Three turrets lined the dorsal spine, three line the ventral 'belly' and two were mounted on each side of the massive vessel. Though inferior to the Tollan ion cannon and not quite as good as Goa'uld energy weapons, they were very effective in large broadsides.

White blue bolts of ionized energy streamed out from the battleship and flew with deadly accuracy into the Mothership SL-028 or Hostile 1; it's golden shield coruscating with azure energy as it struggled to repel the attack. Replying in kind, orange blasts of plasma burst from the main guns on the Mothership and smashed into the shields of the Montana.

Captain Frost gripped the bridge rail tighter as the ENS Montana shook hard from the impacting weapons fire. "Status report!" He barked over the noise of the battle.

Commander Lui, his XO, was leaning over a computer display. "Forward shields are at 50% and dropping fast, but Hostile 1 is concentrating its fire on us, completely ignoring the destroyers."

Realizing what the destroyer commanders had in mind, Frost smiled grimly.

The two destroyers ENS Gorbachev and ENS Akagi had, ignored and unopposed, raced in behind the Goa'uld Mothership and, targeting the rear shields, opened fire.  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


Lord Ak'em scowled furiously as his Mothership shook hard from the pounding the Tau'ri vessel was inflicting.

'Their largest ship is still no match for a Goa'uld vessel' he thought angrily. 'Yet, that they should have ships at all is infuriating! Apophis was a fool to let these Tau'ri live so long...'

"Divert all reserve power to the forward shields!" he ordered.

The Jaffa manning the main console nodded once and complied with the order. A second Jaffa was stood behind him, at the weapons console that had risen out of the floor. "My lord, the Tau'ri battleship's shields have collapsed."

"Excellent!" Ak'em cried out. "Target all weapons upon their power core and destroy them!"

"Kree!" The second Jaffa replied, his hands moving to enter new targeting instructions when the Mothership rocked incredibly hard and his console exploded in his face, sending him flying backed, narrowly missing Lord Ak'em.

"What is happening?" Ak'em shouted out, holding on to his throne as the ship rocked again and again with increasing ferocity.

The first Jaffa had a death grip on the main console. "The Tau'ri destroyers, my Lord!" He cried out. "They've penetrated our rear shields and are causing serious damage to the hull! Rear shields are gone...secondary systems are off-line! The Tau'ri battleship is opening fire again!"

The Mothership shook even worse than before. The ceiling of the bridge exploded and several support struts collapsed in a shower of sparks. "Weapons are off-line! The reactor is going critic..."

His litany of damaged systems was cut-off as the Mothership's power core overloaded after its cooling system failed. The Mothership seemed to glow briefly before exploding in a massive shockwave, sending shattered pieces of hull in all directions and sending the Earth Navy ships reeling.  
  


* * * * * * * *  
  


Captain Frost wiped the cut above his eye with his sleeve and staggered to his feet. "Damage report!"

The younger voice of Lt Commander Paresh, the Tactical Action Officer, stood up from the dead body of Commander Lui and moved to the main console behind the command chair. "Shields are down. Engineering's trying to bring them back but...we're hurt bad, sir. Main engines are off-line, and ion turret 2 is destroyed and turrets 4 and 5 are badly damaged. Hyperdrive is okay but we've got substantial hull damage in frames 10 through 22, sir, and without a complete integrity check, I figure it's a 50/50 chance of tearing the ship apart if we try and jump to hyperspace."

"Status of the remaining Mothership?" Frost asked, staring out the bridge viewport. Barely visible were the fighters and bombers swarming around the remaining Mothership and fighting the remaining Jaffa Death Gliders.

Lt Commander Paresh shook his head. "They've taken substantial damage to their shields and minor hits to their weapons but they're still in fair shape." He looked over at the Flight Ops officer who was furiously monitoring the fight.

She felt the combined stare of the Lt Commander and the Captain and looked up briefly. "The damned Jaffa pilots have done a bang up job of keeping our fighters and bombers occupied." She explained, her strong British accent emphasizing each word. "They've kept good discipline and created a defensive perimeter we've had a hard time punching through, even with the AFMs."

Captain Frost shook his head. "We learn, they learn..."

"The 'Gorbachev' and the 'Stewart' are moving into a position between us and Hostile 2, sir." Paresh's voice urgently cut in. "Captain, SL-043 has started to move. She's breaking off, pulling away from the planet..."

Frost looked up at the flickering tactical display but said nothing, watching the icon representing SL-043 move slowly away from the battle and the slowly expanding filed of debris that used to be Mothership SL-028.

"They're breaking off!" The Flight Ops officer announced. "The fighters are disengaging and pulling back to the Mothership."

"Do we follow?" Paresh asked softly.

Captain Frost shook his head slowly. "Much as I'd like to, we've taken too much damage. No, let them leave, they know they've nothing left to fight for here with the factory destroyed and odds are, we'd cause too much damage to make it profitable for them to try and finish us off."

Lt Commander Paresh finally saw it. "A stalemate."

Frost nodded and moved over to his command chair. Sitting heavily in it, he pressed a button on the armrest control pad. "Bridge to Engineering, get some of your people out on the hull and make sure we'll survive a hyper jump."

"Aye, Captain." The Chief Engineer replied.

The Captain then turned his chair to face the Communications officer who was nursing a rather large bruise on the side of his face. "Notify the Admiral, tell him we've secured PX529 but I'd like to get our people and the Fleet outta here before SL-043 returns with more of his buddies."  
  


* * * * * * * *

Colonel Thorn stood on the lip of the ramp of the Orca transport as his troops streamed onboard, carrying their wounded and dead with them. He surveyed the valley floor with detachment; the scorched landscape that surrounded the patch of grass upon which the Orca transports had landed was still smoking in places.

As the transports landed and SG-Beta retreated onboard, Hammer flight had been busy sending a JDAM into each Scorpion, destroying them totally. After which, a couple of strafing runs in which the two Pegasus bombers had dropped almost four tons of napalm each, upon the legions of Jaffa.

"So much for 'Long Punch'..." Major Chernov commented quietly as the other transports began to lift off.

Colonel Thorn nodded in wry agreement. The 'Long Punch' test was supposed to have been a minimum exposure, maximum effect strike and instead had become an intense ground action with one hell of a space fight thrown in to boot.  
  


* * * * * * * *

**13:46 ZULU  
Situation Room, The Ring, England**

General O'Neill shook his head wonderingly as he read the initial after action report Admiral Kent had transmitted. Seven Sabres, three Pegasus bombers and heavy damage to the ENS Montana in exchange for one Mothership and several squadrons of Death Gliders. SG-Beta's losses were put at forty-two dead, eleven wounded in exchange for almost a legion of Jaffa, numerous Scorpions and their entire construction facility. Tragic that these casualties were, they hadn't seen exchange rates like this since the start of the war, and this victory would improve morale immensely.

"Well, even though Long Punch fell way short of expectations, I think we can chalk this one as a win for our side." O'Neill commented as he placed the pad down on the table. Numerous military chiefs from various countries were sat around the Situation Room, taking advantage of O'Neill's presence at the Ring to go over the results of the Long Punch mission and the overall developing strategic situation.

A Chinese Colonel shook his head slightly. "I wouldn't consider 'Long Punch' a failure this quickly, General. Granted, everything went to hell this time...next time, we shall do better." The officer from the People's Republic had taken a vested interest in the 'Long Punch' project. Traditionally, the People's Liberation Army had relied on 'human wave' style attacks, regardless of the cost in lives but now, with the combining of most of Earth's military forces, China was slowly modernizing its forces and its doctrine and the idea of expending material instead of people appealed more and more to the new generation of Chinese officers.

On of the British Brigadiers, a gaunt faced man with an impressive moustache leaned forward as he spoke up for he was also connected with the Long Punch project. 'Colonel Lee is right, General, we simply need to refine the deployment procedures. With time, I think this might be a very effective weapon."

An Indian Major frowned slightly. "An additional weapon, perhaps, but not one that will replace having men and women on the front lines."

O'Neill smiled slightly in agreement as he sat back and watched the military men and women from over twenty nations bat ideas back and forth about how best to deploy their new weapons on future battlefields.  
  
  
  
  
  
continued in part 2...   
  



	2. Part 2

  
  
  
  


**Chapter 2  
Dancing To A New Tune**  
  
  
  


**10:00 ZULU  
October 11th, 2009  
Hall of Meeting, Fortress of Bast, Sohag**  
  


Hek'at stood immobile behind the throne of his Queen and secret lover, Bast, as she argued heatedly with some of the more 'independent minded' System Lords in the Union they had forged. Not for the first time, he wondered if there was something in the blood of the symbiotes that made them petty, arrogant, argumentative and selfish. Even Bast, who he loved beyond all else, was not completely above these deficiencies in character.

"And I tell you again, Lord Yu is within months of taking most of my frontier territories, if I don't get more support to them soon, they will fall!" This scream came from Lord Kiptakanae, a massive man dressed in tribal finery akin to that of recently deceased Lord Zipakna.

Bast frowned as his statement caused a lull in the six-way argument. Of the eight System Lords in the Hall of Meeting, they each represented a number of System Lords they had managed to unite under their banner in the same way Bast had united all them together. Altogether, the System Lord Union comprised of forty-two System Lords. The Separatist faction of System Lords, nominally led by Lord Yu, consisted of almost eighty. It was fortunate that by their very nature the Separatists won't put aside their personal differences and unite for that could finish the Union once and for all.

"Yu still believes we are responsible for the attacks on his assets?" Bast asked tiredly. She was fighting a war on two fronts and trying to hold a fragile Union together and it was taking its toll. The fact that she was doing all of this successfully proved just how skilled she was but that didn't prevent her from carrying a bone deep weariness from the constant demands on her mind, body and spirit.

She looked up at Kiptakanae to see him nodding grimly at her question. "The damn Tok'ra and Jaffa play agent provocateur very well. Any proof I give to Yu on the subject is regarded as lies and propaganda." He finished with a helpless shrug. "I need more ships and more Jaffa."

Hek'at frowned as Bast took a deep breath. "Jaffa we can spare. Hek'at will dispatch three Legions immediately but as for ships..." She gave a gentle shake of her head. "We are stretched too thin as it is. I cannot spare you any."

Another System Lord, Lady Amun'Sul, leaned forward. "What of the latest batch of Mothership construction?" She asked suspiciously. "Is it not true your shipyard is near completion of at least three Motherships?"

Bast managed to refrain from glancing at Hek'at and instead smiled gently at her fellow Goa'uld. "As a matter of fact they have just completed five Motherships and I am finding crews for them as we speak."

Kiptakanae studied Bast and Hek'at intently. "And I cannot have any of these vessels?" It was phrased as a question but everyone in the room seemed to know that it was a statement.

"No." Bast confirmed gently but firmly. "We have been pressed onto the defensive for far too long. As we fight the Separatists and get weaker, the Tau'ri continue to find allies and grow stronger. We must alter this flow of events into something more to our advantage."

"What do you suggest?" One of the other System Lords asked.

Bast glanced at her First Prime, who took a step forward. Although still unaware of the exact nature of the relationship between Bast and her First Prime, the various System Lords, in close contact with Bast had noticed the increased standing of Hek'at in her regard and although not overly pleased by his constant presence and prominent role in the Union, none chose to make an issue of it. Yet.

Hek'at met the stares of the System Lords evenly and began to speak unhesitatingly. "My Lords, our intelligence assets have learned of a new world the Tau'ri have brought into their Alliance. A world previously unknown to us, called Gryphon by the natives. It is ruled by a peasant monarchy but has a population of three billion and a technological level on a par with the Tau'ri themselves. It appears they have been actively trading technologies."

Several of the System Lords muttered nervously.

Hek'at ignored it and pressed on. "We have superior technology to that of the Tau'ri but they are advancing quickly thanks to unofficial help from the Asgard and the rest of their Alliance. They now build ships in large numbers, enough to make even our Union hesitant in battle. We cannot allow this state of affair to continue."

Kiptakanae cursed suddenly. "Yes...yes! We've heard this before but we could never attack Earth and the others because of the cursed Asgard and they thrice damned Protected Planets Treaty."

Hek'at stepped back as Bast rose from her throne and stepped into the center of the circle. "You come straight to the point, Kiptakanae. This world of Gryphon, it may have joined the Alliance forged by the Tau'ri, they are reaping the benefits of that union but you see, they also share the risks and need to be protected by the Tau'ri as well."

"You mean...?" The other Goa'uld asked as realization dawned.

Bast nodded. "We've never known of Gryphon before, but neither has the Asgard. Gryphon isn't protected by the Treaty."  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


"Well, I think that went well for a change." Hek'at remarked, trying to sound positive. The meeting had finished a short time ago and they were now taking a well-deserved break from everything in order to relax. Things were coming to head and the pressure upon them both was increasing exponentially. They were all alone in her private chambers and Hek'at was gently massaging her shoulders, his massive hands tenderly trying to work some of the tense muscles looser.

Bast sighed deeply at his ministrations and shook her head. "As well as anyone could expect but far from well...we're our own worst enemy, Hek'at."

Hek'at snorted softly. "Who isn't?" He replied. "I know what your saying but you have achieved something only Lord Ra managed to do, united the System Lords under one banner. And Ra used overwhelming force and the constant threat of annihilation to do it. We, on the other hand, lack the firepower to force the other System Lords to do anything which makes your 'diplomatic' accomplishments all the more impressive."

Nodding, Bast consciously suppressed her muscles from tightening up again in rising tension. "It doesn't mean I don't wish for the System Lords to stop fighting each other."

Gesturing for him to stop his impromptu massage, he stepped back and, rising from her chair, she moved towards the holographic console, displaying an overview of the Galaxy.

"Do you have anything new to report, my love?"

Sighing resignedly, he moved beside her and began to manipulate the console. "The Asgard are behaving strangely."

Bast leveled a glare at the giant Jaffa. "The Asgard do nothing without a reason, strange or not. What precisely are they doing?"

"Nothing." Hek'at replied with a grunt. Noting the rising anger on Bast's face he hurried to explain. "Peace, my love, all I meant is that within the past week or so, Asgard activity within the Galaxy has steadily dropped to almost nothing."

The holographic display in front of them flickered and showed the spot reports of Asgard activity over the past year and a graph showing the sudden sharp drop-off in activity among their outposts and protectorate worlds. The Asgard routinely flew their ships all over the Galaxy, keeping their eye on events, even if they did nothing to interfere. The Goa'uld had put up with their incessant curiosity and general nosiness for millennia without being able to do a thing about it.

"No ship activity at all?" Bast asked.

"None." Hek'at replied. "It's like they've suddenly all gone home. I cannot find an instance in the historical archives when this has occurred before."

"You won't." The Goa'uld Queen replied. "It's never happened before, even when the damned machines threatened their homeworld, a fair number of vessels still remained in our Galaxy."

Bast studied the sparse information intently as Hek'at watched on silently but after several minutes, she sighed. "There's not enough data to deduce their motives or intent. I shall have to consult other sources of information."

"The Tau'ri?" Hek'at guessed.

Bast nodded. "I was thinking more along the lines of the Tok'ra. Tau'ri technology may be comparatively primitive but it is based on wholly different principles to our own, thus making their signals traffic more secure than the Tok'ra's whose technology, I'm glad to say, is the same as ours and thus, no matter how altered or improved can be cracked with enough sheer effort."

"Its only a shame that the Tau'ri don't trust the Tok'ra with sensitive information more often." Hek'at added with a small smile.

Bast responded with a wry grin. "Yes, that would be rather more convenient, though I find it amusing that even the Tau'ri's lack of trust in their allies works in their favor."

Hek'at shook his head. "You clearly have lost all decent sense of humor." He looked up at the holographic display of the Galaxy musingly. "I find few things about the Tau'ri amusing anymore. They are far too dangerous."

Sobering slightly, Bast decided it was time to get down to business and manipulated the console once more. "Since the loss of the Pra'kesh construction facility on Nataal and the destruction of Lord Ak'em and his Mothership, the Tau'ri have increased their strikes against our outlying worlds. While most of our assets are tied down fighting Lord Yu and the thrice-damned Separatists, the Tau'ri raids are beginning to hurt us. They have the momentum and we need to change that fast. What is the status of your strike force?" She asked as she manipulated the console controls, zooming in on the region of the Galaxy around the planet Gryphon.

Hek'at moved away from her and activated a separate console, displaying the relevant information on a new holographic window, even as he recited it from memory. "All five vessels have completed initial construction and are currently going through final testing. That should be complete in less than a fortnight. By that time, the crews will be ready and my troops will be assembled."

"What about their Chappa'ai?" She asked.

"It is a primary objective. I need to secure the Chappa'ai as quickly as possible for the Shal'kra Motherships carry an impressive number of troops, they are but a drop in the ocean of what we can bring through from Sohag. Once I have destroyed their fleet, I can attack the planet from orbit and capture the Chappa'ai, allowing us to bring in the rest of the Legions to take their largest cities and destroy any and all defensive forces."

Bast nodded in agreement. "My probes have revealed one Tau'ri carrier, two of their battleships, one of which was damaged in the Nataal fight, and a handful of destroyers. Their fighter strength, complimented by ground based fighters is likely to be impressive."

Hek'at looked grim. "That is the only part of this that worries me. The Motherships can handle the carrier, the battleships and the destroyers. We might lose a ship, but they have nothing that can truly stop us. No, it's the Tau'ri fighters that I fear will cause untold damage to the udajeets and the Jaffa on the ground. I have ordered additional squadrons to be stripped from Sohag and assigned to the invasion fleet. We will need them."

Silently, Bast cursed the fates that gave the Tau'ri such animal cunning and technical inventiveness. Her scientific people were still trying to come up with a counter to the homing projectiles that their fighters utilize to such devastating effect. "Remember, your force is the assault wave, I will send you more ships as soon as I can free them from their duties. I have several diplomatic missions ongoing at the minute that, if they bear fruit, will give us enough ships to crush the Tau'ri Alliance entirely."

"That, however, is in the future." She continued after a moment. "We will attack Gryphon and force them into a confrontation, allowing us to destroy a good portion of their fleet. If they do the smart thing and refuse to defend Gryphon, we simply walk in and take the planet and they send a signal to the rest of their Alliance that they won't defend you if it becomes too hard. We win, either way."  
  


* * * * * * *

**Somewhere in Union space...**

The System Lord strode swiftly to the communication device and waved his hand across the head-sized globe. A white ripple of energy passed over the globe and the face of an elderly, oriental man appeared, his expression arrogant and superior. "I knew you would call."

"It is as you say..." The other man spat out, gritting his teeth in frustration.

The image of Lord Yu smiled mockingly. "Of course it is. Any reasonable being would have seen the situation for what it is...an abomination!"

Gripping his hands in anger, the System Lord spat out, "Your way is still wrong, and would leads us all to destruction!"

"Ahh," Yu replied, unruffled, "...so you say, but what you think matters little, that is the essence of our Separatist movement, Gods should be free to pursue our own agendas and whims, unhindered by others, unhindered by Bast and her 'leadership'!"

Frowning, the System Lord felt a bitter taste in his mouth. "She cannot be allowed to continue, and yet she alone, among us, has the ability to defeat the Tau'ri..."

At this, the placid expression Yu wore melted away to be replaced by anger. "Fek'shoa! Rubbish! The Tau'ri are no threat to Gods! We shall go about our business and if the Tau'ri interfere, we shall crush them. Until then, they are as nothing!"

Shaking his head, the System Lord summoned his own anger. "Regardless...I shall do as you have suggested."

The face in the globe smiled once more. "A wise decision. The abomination must be destroyed. There is no other way."  
  
  


**09:42 ZULU  
October 15th, 2009  
Arlington National Cemetery**

O'Neill walked somberly among the numerous graves of fallen heroes. It had been two weeks since the fight on PX529 and it was a cold, autumn morning and a thin, damp fog drifted over the hillsides. Several bodyguards moved unobtrusively through the cemetery as the Supreme Allied Commander of Stargate Command made his way, alone, to see and old friend and mentor.

He came to a halt in front of a small, unassuming cross. The engraved stone plinth embedded in the earth read:

_Lieutenant General George S. Hammond.  
1938 - 2006_

_"Husband, Father, Soldier, Friend..."_

_"Never to be forgotten."_  
  


O'Neill just gazed silently at the grave for several minutes before expelling a deep sigh. "Damn it, sir..." He spoke softly. "I wish you were still here. I need someone to talk to..."

Shaking his head as the wind blew in silently reply, O'Neill knelt down and brushed a few leaves away from the plinth. "We talked about going on the offensive against the Goa'uld...We created Spearhead as the first step in the plan but Jesus, sir, I figured you'd still be around to help me out, even if you had retired..."

Not really young when the SGC was first created, O'Neill had looked at himself in the mirror this morning and really took notice of the silver hair and salt and pepper goatee, wondering when he had gotten old.

"We doing pretty good so far, George, far better that we had any right to expect but I'm getting bad vibes...we haven't heard anything from the Asgard lately and Bast has been keeping a pretty low profile since we bloodied her nose two weeks ago, hell, since before that. She's up to something and I think it's gonna bite us on the ass, sir."

He missed Daniel badly. Hadn't spoken to him for a while either, for he was buried on Abydos with his wife, Sha're and it was damned near impossible for the Supreme Commander to get off-world nowadays unless it was on official business.

"Hell, Its probably nothing but...I just wish you were still around, is all, old friend."

Sam was busy as hell running the SGC and the Science Divisions simultaneously and making it look easy. Regardless of rank, she'd always be Sam or 'Carter' to him. General Carter was her father, always would be...

"We've come a long way since SG-1..."

Teal'c was in his element running the Stargate Training Command with Chief Master Sgt Booth. The two of them were cranking out troops trained to fight Jaffa with increasing speed and he was turning into Master Bra'tac more and more each day.

"I know what you'd say if you were still here, sir, and you're right of course...I always did enjoy a joke."

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and O'Neill turned slightly to see his aide hesitantly approaching but not wanting to intrude in any way.

"Duty calls, sir." O'Neill came to attention and saluted sharply.

Stepping away from the grave, he walked swiftly towards his aide, Colonel Katherine Krupskaya. "What's up, Kathy?" He asked wryly, wondering if the world had gone to shit while he took an hour away from the office.

"General Stuart would like to meet with you, sir." She replied concisely.

O'Neill frowned. "The old warhorse say why?"

She shook her head. "But I made a couple of calls, it seems the Admiral of the Fleet and Ambassador Shiv will be there as well. They've been talking since nine this morning."

If Sir Patterson was involved, then it was obviously something to do with the Fleet, yet O'Neill couldn't recall anything noteworthy in the morning's strategic briefing that would involve Gryphon as well, since that was Ambassador Shiv main tasking lately.

"Ours is not to reason why, Colonel..." O'Neill responded sagely as he walked towards his car, the driver already standing beside it with the door open. O'Neill had tried to get them to stop doing that but they simply nodded, smiled and continued to open each and every door for him.

Krupskaya snorted softly at the General's obviously faked air of disinterest.  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


Thirty minutes later, O'Neill was at the Pentagon and was making his way into the Chairman of The Joint Chiefs office. O'Neill smiled as the nervous looking Major out in the front office saw him coming, rose and knocked on the door to General Orin Stuart's office. A gravelly voice boomed out and the Major visibly winced. Smiling weakly, he stepped aside and O'Neill walked straight in.

Inside the surprisingly austere office, the hulking figure of Ambassador Shiv sat in a red leather sofa against the far wall, the reed thin British knight and Admiral of the Fleet, Lord Sir Henry Patterson was sat opposite him in a slightly worn easy chair and behind his desk sat the iron gray figure of General Stuart.

"Get your ass in here, Jack, we've got things to talk about." Stuart called out.

O'Neill smiled as he sat in another easy chair beside Admiral Patterson and Colonel Krupskaya sat gingerly on the sofa next to the massive bulk of Ambassador Shiv. "Didn't recognize your aide on the way in, Orin. That makes it what? Your fifth this year?"

"His fourth, I believe, Jack." Patterson joined in; always ready to bait the old soldier.

Stuart glared at them both as he left his desk and sat down in the remaining high back, leather chair across the small table from O'Neill. "Bite your tongues, the both of you. It's not my fault if I can't find an aide who's issued with an actual spine."

Shiv snorted, the sound more reminiscent of an explosion than of amusement. "Ha! The ones with spines generally come with attitude to match and anybody with half a brain would avoid working directly under you day in and day out like the plague."

"Too damned true." Stuart stated resignedly. "To business...Jack, Gryphon needs some reassurance. It seems that the Goa'uld have finally found them."

O'Neill leaned forward slightly. "Is that confirmed?"

Shiv nodded. "Since we gave them the F-401's, they've been flying long range patrols throughout their solar system. Earlier this week, a Goa'uld energy signature was detected at the very edge of their system, too far away to get a positive ID. Last night, an Al'kesh hyperspaced into the inner system and got a good look at Gryphon, jumping out before the patrols could intercept it."

"Damn." O'Neill replied bitterly. Everyone knew that the Protected Planets Treaty didn't cover Gryphon and all attempts to contact the Asgard for the past four months had failed. Even the military team sent to assist the Asgard had not been heard from, which meant the Asgard must be having their own problems. The result of all this meant that Earth had to take on the burden of providing interstellar security for the Gryphon until they got up to speed on their own defensive fleet. It was something the World Council was intent on doing for Gryphon improved the overall strength of the Alliance enormously but the actual chances of fending off a serious Goa'uld attack were chancy.

"I've been getting some rumblings from the Tok'ra." Stuart announced. "Bast's shipyards at PX8-112 are nearing their latest batch of construction. Five Shal'kra Class, the biggest of the Motherships, not counting the Command ships."

"Bloody hell." Patterson cursed. "That'll let them replace almost all their losses among their bigger ships we've inflicted to date. And those buggers are too big and powerful for pacification duty over some backwater world. Waste of assets. You can guarantee they'll use the damned things to attack some poor sod with." He finished glumly.

"The Gryphonese, no doubt." O'Neill replied. "All the cards are falling in Bast's favor and there's not a damn thing we can do about it."

"Not quite." General Stuart replied. "I'm going before the World Council and I'm going to ask for their blessing for a gamble I'm about to make."

The other men in the room studied the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs in curiosity.

"I'm going to send as much of the fleet as I can to Gryphon, that includes the ships protecting Earth." Stuart finished.

O'Neill frowned as he considered the options, Ambassador Shiv paled slightly at the apparent risk the General was taking and Admiral Patterson was thinking furiously.

"The Goa'uld can't touch Earth so it's not so much of a risk leaving ourselves uncovered. Especially with the new planetary defenses being deployed." The Admiral of the Fleet added.

Stuart nodded. "I should be able to sell it to the politicians."

Shiv smiled slightly. "It may be militarily sound but it actually make a powerful political gesture as well. We are basically telling our allies that Earth with go to great lengths to ensure their security."

"I'm not unaware of that potential effect, Ambassador." Stuart replied, managing to sound both pleased and disgusted at being so deft at the political aspects of fighting a war.

He turned to O'Neill. "Prime Minister Grant was supposed to go to Gryphon and meet the Monarchy but I've upgraded Gryphon's threat level to Condition 1 in light of recent events. That means you're going in her place, Jack, as per the original plan."

O'Neill nodded as if he had expected it. "I'll take a tour of their defensive facilities as well, see if I can offer any help preparing them for the Goa'uld. For what good it'll do..."

Stuart smiled darkly. "Let's show Bast and her friends that Earth is no longer someone with whom they can just mess with."

"Here, here." Admiral Patterson replied. "I'd best be off. I have some fleet captains to talk to."

Everyone nodded in agreement and rose from their chairs. After saying their goodbyes, Ambassador Shiv and Admiral Patterson walked out together, leaving Stuart and O'Neill alone.

"Hold on a minute, Jack, will ya?" Stuart asked quietly. He had noted something in O'Neill's eyes when he had been informed he'd be going to Gryphon after all. Having heard the rumors about Jack after his son had accidentally killed himself with Jack's gun, Stuart needed to avert a possible tragedy.

O'Neill looked at the Chairman's face and then glanced at Krupskaya. His aide got the silent message and she swiftly withdrew from the room.

"What's up, sir?" He asked.

Stuart moved over to his desk and half sat on its edge. "I'm worried, Jack."

"Who isn't?" O'Neill half snorted.

Stuart smiled slightly but shook his head. "That's not what I mean. Jack, we've been using a lot of our people to set up shipyards on the five largest worlds in the Alliance, Earth, Polaris, Entrica, Sintesia and now Gryphon. This has cut into our ability to build large numbers of ships but its imperative we get as much construction capacity as possible. We're going to need it for Operation Spring Clean."

O'Neill inclined his head slightly, unsure where the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs was going. He knew perfectly well that O'Neill had played a large part in determining their war strategies and policies.

"Jack, Gryphon's going to fall, you know that." Stuart announced bluntly.

O'Neill frowned. "We have a chance..."

Shaking his head, Stuart cut him off. "Jack, Third Fleet will do their best but even they can't hold off five Shal'kra Motherships without more support than we can give them. First and Second Fleet is scattered across the Alliance and it will take time for them to assemble at Gryphon, The 'Prometheus' in now attached to Third Fleet for the duration since the 'Montana took a pounding and is still undergoing repairs but that gives Admiral Kent one carrier, three battleships and eight destroyers, fourteen if the closest ones get there before the Goa'uld do. Now, five Hat'ak's, I'd give Third Fleet damn good odds but against five Shal'kra's? I rather bet on the other side."

"Okay, granted the situation in space is desperate but I guarantee that on the ground, we'll take on the Jaffa and win." O'Neill replied, defiantly. "The Sintesian planetary defense cannons will make sure the skies above Gryphon are clear and the city shields will protect most of the population from orbital strikes. If Bast's wants to take Gryphon, she's gonna have to put Jaffa on the ground."

(note - Sintesia is an original signatory member of the Alliance who had a fairly effective ground-to-space cannon that they used as part of a continental missile defense system. Sintesian engineers took the relatively primitive ion cannon technology the SGC had and improved on it considerably. Used in conjunction with the large-scale shields developed for cities, this planetary defense system denies any invading ship the ability to blithely bomb a planet from orbit.)

Raising his hands, Stuart acknowledged the point. "I have no doubt that the troops on Gryphon will give a good accounting of themselves but what I'm saying is that fighting on the ground is half the battle lost. At some point, we're gong to have to take the orbitals and the Gryphon system back. That will be the first step, your first step, in Operation Spring Clean."

"What are you saying?" O'Neill asked, guardedly.

Stuart sighed. "Jack, you're going to Gryphon soon and I know you, your gonna find every excuse you can to stick around until the Goa'uld invade, just so you can pick up a rifle and join in the defense."

"Your point?" Jack replied, not denying the accusation.

"I need you alive, Jack!" Stuart roared. "Goddamit, man! I know you've lost people but now is not the time to go all gung ho on some suicidal guilt trip."

Jack winced in half-amusement and half-annoyance. "Jeez, sir, I hope you never decide to become a therapist..."

Stuart snorted with mirth but quickly fell serious again. "Look Jack, you and I both know how it works. I've been there too, you know. I've lost friends too and I miss George as well but you know he'd be kicking your butt right about now if he could."

O'Neill was silent for several minutes but eventually he nodded, understanding the request implicit in the other man's words. "I'll come back alive."

"That's all I ask, Jack." Stuart replied, feeling somewhat relieved. "Do what you can for Gryphon, Jack, let them know we'll be there for them, and when it's time to leave, let them know, we'll be back for them."

O'Neill stood as Stuart rose from the table and saluted.

Stuart returned the salute and O'Neill departed without another word.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Chapter 3  
A Horse, a Horse, my Kingdom for a Horse!**  
  
  
  
  


_( Historical Index - 0025-8401 Gryphon Unification War.  
The planet Gryphon is roughly equal to Earth in terms of size, mass and climate, the only real difference being a thirty-hour day and a single landmass that is a super-continent covering close to sixty percent of the surface. No one is sure who brought humans from Earth to Gryphon but whoever did appears to have long forgotten about them. For hundreds of years, the people of Gryphon were united under a single ruler, a King. Unfortunately, the Monarchy eventually became oppressive towards certain elements of its society and as a result, rebellion grew, the Monarchy was overthrown and Gryphon split into two nation states; the larger, democratic but politically fractured Edo and the smaller but dictatorial, monolithic war machine of Manticore. The forty-year Unification War had left Edo the nominal victor after a series of tremendous battles but overall, the war had left both sides devastated. Their governments and their infrastructure, specifically targeted, were effectively wiped out. Over then next ten long, hard years, the two highest ranking officers in the Gryphon Army had managed to use their surviving military forces to bring order back to the battered but surviving cities and the shattered societies of both nation states. Without realizing it, they had become a government unto themselves and their even-handedness in dealing with the people of Edo and Manticore without any regard to their past actions lead to a deep core of admiration and loyalty being forged.  
It was almost fifteen years after the final battle of the Unification War that the united people of Gryphon called for General Paul of the Sword and General Elizabeth of the Shield to ascend to the long-defunct throne of Gryphon. And so the Monarchy of Gryphon was reborn.)_

**Imperial Palace, Edo City, Gryphon  
14:25 ZULU  
October 22nd, 2009**

Golden sunlight shone down upon the Imperial Palace, the massive white marble edifice reflecting the light in a dazzling display that could be seen for many miles around. Of course, this was exactly the sort of effect the architects had been trying to achieve.  
A sprawling complex of buildings surrounded the Palace for miles in every direction, the architecture of the buildings varied yet similar in design and decoration so as to create a vision of unity. People who visit Edo, capital of Gryphon, for the first time are sometimes moved to tears by the majestic sight of tall white buildings, glittering golden rooftops and lush green parks and gardens.

High up in the Imperial Palace, Anne of the Sword, Queen of Gryphon, looked out from the balcony of her 'office' and sighed deeply.

"That's the third time this week, Tadeshi." She replied to the gruff looking man behind her, sitting patiently in front of her desk.

Wearing a military uniform of thick, dark green material, with stiff pale green shoulder boards, each carrying five black triangles. A series of gold hash marks, twenty-eight in all, rested on his left chest

General Tadeshi Roberts of the Fist, Supreme Commander of the Troops, nodded slowly. "They're planning on making a move soon, my Queen. When they first found us two weeks ago, I figured they'd come after us eventually but never this quickly...I think they somehow learned that we're not protected by the Asgard and that, combined with the new ships coming off their assembly lines..." He left the conclusion unsaid.

"You're most likely right." Queen Anne turned from the balcony and moved back inside. "And when they attack?"

It was the General's turn to sigh. "I doubt we'll be able to prevent them landing, regardless of Admiral Patterson's optimism. Our defense fleet is nowhere near strong enough to take on the Goa'uld and the rest of the Earth Navy is scattered among the rest of the Alliance. The recall went out to them last week, but it'd take them anywhere from nine to thirty days to get here. Each day brings one or two ships from the rest of the Fleet in but in effect, we have only their Third Fleet to support us at the moment and the Goa'uld know this. If they're considering attacking us, then they must be bringing enough ships to deal with them."

The Royal Guards at the door on the far side of the room stiffened to attention and seconds later, the door opened. The General and the Queen looked up in surprise only to relax when they saw that it was Anne's husband, King Yamato of the Shield.

"Sorry I'm late, my dear, General O'Neill and I had more to talk about than we first thought." He announced, gesturing for the Royal Guards to relax their stance.

Anne raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Yamato grinned and sat down in the empty chair beside General Robert. "Yes, it seems that the Goa'uld Motherships everyone's worried about have gone missing."

Roberts and Anne glanced at each other and then stared at Yamato. "Missing?" Robert asked for the both of them, the pieces of the jigsaw forming a picture that didn't bode well for Gryphon.

Nodding seriously, he pulled a data-pad out from his trouser pocket and placed it on Anne's desk. "That's the full report from Tok'ra Intelligence. As you may know, they track Mothership movements as a matter of course...well, it seems that the five Motherships that just finished final workups at the Shipyards on PX8-112 have disappeared. They left the yards three days ago and haven't been spotted anywhere else since. I think it's safe to say that they're on their way here."

"Did you ask about the reinforcements?" General Roberts asked. "PX8-112 is practically on the other side of the Galaxy. It'll take them at least six more days to arrive, at worst. That's enough time to prepare a reception for them."

The King winced. "Admiral Patterson informed me that they've already stripped Earth to the bone in order to send us the battleship 'Prometheus' and it's squadrons of fighters. The skirmish at PX529 put the 'Montana' from Third Fleet in our repair docks and might be ready in time but the latest capital ship construction across the Alliance is still many months from completion. The Earth Fleet isn't all that big to begin with and all they're literally the only members of the Alliance with any heavy ships. Their putting everything on the line for us but it still might not be enough."

Roberts turned away, thinking furiously. Another four destroyers and Admiral Kent's task force would improve the situation by a considerable margin but they'd always known that if the Goa'uld got serious about taking a planet, nothing short of a Asgard vessel would stop them.

Yamato spoke softly in the sudden silence. "Understanding the tense situation in space, I asked General O'Neill for additional ground troops to augment our forces."

Anne smiled grimly. "Good thinking, my love. What was his response?"

"He said he could offer us one division of infantry and light armored units. That's all there is available at such short notice." Yamato replied. "The good news is that the division is a reaction force, ready for a rapid Stargate transit. They can start to move within twelve hours and be ready to fight in less than thirty. He did say there might be an additional unit of some kind but here didn't say of what. I gathered he's scraping the barrel for whatever he can find. They'll start arriving tomorrow, along with O'Neill himself. He still wants to go ahead with the meeting and the inspection of our military."

General Roberts was glad for O'Neill's presence but he was even more cheered by the thought of such battle-hardened veterans filling the ranks of the Gryphon Army regulars. Though the Gryphon Army was by no means 'green' thanks to the hard-core Neo-Manticore raiders that prey on the various land-trains that ply the continental trade routes, but the Army hadn't fought in any significant battle since the Unification War almost two hundred years ago.

"I'll get my staff dusting off the old Edo and Manticore defense plans and begin expanding them to include a planet-wide defensive action. But I can tell you now, Bast has probably gathered enough electronic and observational intelligence to work out our political and military structure and the fight for the planet and though our twenty largest cities have been turned in planetary defense centers with large scale shield generators and an array of Sintesian defense cannons, the fight is going to fall around three main locations." Robert stated calmly and began ticking points off his fingers. "The first location will be Edo City or more specifically, the Imperial Palace in an attempt to capture you two; the second key point will be the Wakazi military base, which is our largest and best defended military installation and not to mention the location of the Stargate. The final key point of attack will likely be the Yards and industrial plants of Manticore City."

"Each of these key points will be massively defended, the civilians are being sent to the old shelters or moved to the other shielded cities. We've been upgrading them steadily since we learned of the Goa'uld and we have plenty of room for those leaving the smaller cities." Roberts finished.

"What about the smaller cites, the towns and villages?" Anne asked softly. "The people that can't or won't leave their homes?"

Yamato shook his head. "We'll advise them to take shelter wherever they can find it. We can't hide three billion people, Anne, and we certainly can't evacuate...No, we'll just have to keep the Goa'uld focused on the leadership, on the three main points of defense."

General Roberts tried to reassure his Queen. "Ma'am, we'll have local defense nodes all throughout the country. We've had civilians turning up, asking for weapons so as to defend their homes. We've been running them through accelerated training course with the Special Forces who are teaching them basic guerilla tactics. The countryside will be a dangerous place for Jaffa for a long time to come, Ma'am. No, they'll focus on taking the capital, Wakazi and the Manticore Yards. The Goa'uld will have to spend years digging us out."

Nodding sadly, Anne looked out the window, beyond the balcony, at the golden city of Edo wondering what would be left of her beautiful world.  
  


* * * * * * * * *

**Stargate Chamber, Wakazi Base, Gryphon  
20:05 ZULU  
October 23rd, 2009**  
  


"STAND TO! GATE TRANSIT IN PROGRESS!"

Brigadier Scott adjusted his seemingly ill-fitting dress uniform and winced slightly as the trooper at the end of the microphone called the alert just a little too loudly. Suddenly the Gryphon Stargate burst into life. The swirling plasma stream never failed to capture the attention of those nearby and Scott tore his attention away from the majestic sight long enough to see his Gryphon military liaison, Commander Helen of the Axe staring at the Stargate with eyes that were still fresh to the sight of that ring of naquada and its ancient workings.

The event horizon rippled slightly and two large soldiers in full combat gear stepped through easily, alert eyes scanning the Chamber, frowning at the sight of Gryphon Army regulars and their guns but stepping to one side nevertheless.

The soldier on the left, a Marine Sergeant Major, assumed a parade stance and spoke firmly but with deceptive power so that it carried to all ears in the chamber. "Supreme Allied Commander, Stargate Command, arriving!"

Practically on cue, the event horizon rippled once more and a tall figure in full dress uniform stepped through. Lieutenant General O'Neill smiled slightly, more than a little self conscious at the display he and his men were putting on.

Moving steadily down the ramp, O'Neill headed towards Brigadier Scott and the Gryphon Commander, his aide, Colonel Krupskaya and his Marine bodyguards in tow. "Good evening, Brigadier." O'Neill greeted.

Scott nodded respectfully. "And to you, sir. May I present Commander Helen Yuriko of the Axe, 8th Queen's Cavalry and my liaison here on Gryphon."

"Ma'am." O'Neill acknowledged with a small smile.

"General. It's an honor." She replied with a salute.

O'Neill returned the salute and frowned mockingly at Scott. "What the hell have you been saying about me, Scott?"

"Oh, I've filled them in on all of your exploits, included P3X595..." The junior General replied with unwholesome glee.

Jack winced slightly and mentally promised swift retribution towards Scott if his little joke actually turned out to be true and he had shared that not so secret-secret. "Your boys and girls are ready, Scott...let's get this show on the road."

Scott nodded in agreement and turned to his Gryphonese counterpart. "Commander, permission to transfer my forces to your planet." Brigadier General Scott requested formally.

With equal formality, Helen nodded. "Permission granted, sir."

O'Neill, with little fanfare, half-turned to his aide. "Bring them over, Kathy."

"Yes, sir." Krupskaya replied and pressed a button on her GDO, sending the signal through the still open Stargate, back to the SGC.

Almost immediately, the wormhole rippled and, line abreast, four soldiers in full gear and large backpacks stepped out of the Stargate. Straight on their heels were another four soldiers similarly equipped...and another...and another, in a seemingly endless stream. Gryphon soldiers stood at several points in the Chamber, forming a path and directing the Earth troopers towards a massive open doorway that led to another large chamber built specifically for assembling large formation of soldiers.

O'Neill stood silently with pride as Brigadier General Scott's 23rd Heavy Infantry Division, the SGC's 'Rapid Reaction Force', men and women from twenty different militaries across Earth marched in unison out of the Stargate.

"General O'Neill? Her Majesty, Queen Anne, awaits you upstairs, in the Strategic Operations Center, along with King Yamato and General Roberts." Commander Helen informed him.

Smiling slightly, O'Neill glanced at the arriving troops one last time before turning towards the commander. "Then by all means, Commander, let's not keep them waiting."  
  


* * * * * * * * *

**Deep Space staging point, 500 light years from Gryphon  
21:39 ZULU**

Hek'at moved through his flagship, 'Fist of the Gods', deep in thought. He was a proud man, confident in his abilities and those of his Jaffa and yet, the Tau'ri had defeated him and his army on many occasions. Oh, he had had several impressive victories but as a whole, the Tau'ri had taught him more about warfare than his old Master ever had. Chief among these lessons was caution. This was why his ships were sitting in the middle of deep space, four days from Gryphon, waiting for his scouts to return and allowing his men to perform general maintenance on these new and untried vessels.

Yes, he would approach with caution this time. The Tau'ri fighters would pose serious problems but his new ships had a simple if inelegant solution to their fighters...the bombers would have to be kept at arms length...their heavier warships would need to be dispatched quickly, allowing them to mop up the rest at leisure...Intelligence reported rumors of a new planetary defense system being deployed to Tau'ri Alliance worlds, would it be at Gryphon, a fairly recent member?

The multitude of thoughts running though his mind was evident by the blank, distracted look on his face. His Second smiled internally as he approached Hek'at unnoticed, almost walking into him before the First Prime brought his attention back to the present.

"Dre'tec?" Hek'at asked in surprise, cursing his lack of focus.

The Second held out a slate. "The scout has returned and this is their report."

Hek'at took the slate and began to scroll through the comprehensive information. "Summarize." He ordered.

"Three more destroyers have arrived, bringing their number to fourteen. One battleship remains in dry-dock, leaving two battleships and one carrier in orbit. There are no accurate counts on fighters but we are estimating at least eight squadrons of fighters, four of bombers and two of transports. Chappa'ai activity has been heavy."

"Planetary defenses?"

Dre'tec shrugged. "There are some relatively new energy signatures on the planet that are consistent with multiple naquada generators but we have no idea what they may be powering. Could be cannons, could be reading lamps."

Hek'at snorted at Dre'tec's idea of humor and then frowned, making a mental note to approach the planet carefully. Taking a deep breath he looked at his Second and smiled. "Very well, my friend. Recall the patrols. It is time."  
  
  


The handful of patrolling udajeets quickly returned to their respective Motherships and the massive vessels fell into formation. When all Jaffa were aboard, one by one, the Motherships, led by 'Fist of the Gods' made the jump to hyperspace, heading directly for Gryphon.  
  


* * * * * * * * *

**Strategic Operations Center, Wakazi Base, Gryphon  
23:05 ZULU**  
  


"What do you think then, Jack?" General Roberts asked quietly.

They had just spent the past three hours going over the basic deployments of ships and troops in the Gryphon system, desperately trying to bolster the defenses.

"It's gonna be tough, Tadeshi." O'Neill replied slowly. "We don't have enough firepower to stop them. Hurt them, yes, but stop them completely, no. We'd only waste the fleet if we tried."

Yamato smiled grimly. "I'm not stupid, Jack, and neither is Anne or Roberts. We knew when we joined the Alliance that we'd be vulnerable and we gambled that we could keep our presence from the Goa'uld. We were wrong."

"Your Highness..." O'Neill started.

"No, Jack." Anne interrupted. "We have a saying, 'to turn from the dark path is an invitation to get lost but to stay on the dark path is an invitation to get robbed.' We knew that alone, the Goa'uld would wipe us out but as a member of the Alliance, well, let's just say, you're not going to leave us, how do you say, 'swinging in the wind'?"

"Absolutely not, Ma'am. We will be back. You just have to hold out for a short while..." Jack finished forcefully.

General Roberts nodded. "Two years, Jack. Two years. If all goes reasonably well, I can hold Edo City, Wakazi Base and the Manticore Yards for two years, at most. If the Alliance doesn't come back for us by then, I wouldn't bother coming back at all."

O'Neill gripped his fists in frustration. "We'll be back. I promise you that."

Anne smiled in satisfaction. "I know you will, Jack."

Jack was saved from replying when his aide, Colonel Krupskaya cleared he throat slightly to catch her boss's attention. "Sir, SG-Omega is due in fifteen minutes."

At the raised eyebrows of the native Gryphonese, O'Neill smiled. "A little something extra I managed to scrape from the bottom of the barrel. I think we should head down to the Stargate and greet SG-Omega."

Yamato and Roberts looked towards the Queen who simply shrugged and said nothing as she rose from her chair.

The Royal Guards, who were stood against the wall of the Operations Center, communicated to the rest of the Guards that the King and Queen were on their way back to the Stargate.  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


The Royal party arrived with near perfect timing as the last chevron locked into position and the wormhole exploded into existence.

O'Neill glanced around the Chamber and saw that the last of the CAV's had arrived and were being moved onto a massive freight elevator, for transport to the surface. Through the massive side door, he could see the hundreds of soldiers from the 23rd Heavy Infantry, prepping their equipment, eating their rations and catching up on their sleep, oblivious to their surroundings.

"So what's the big surprise then, Jack?" Roberts asked, unable to restrain his curiosity any longer.

O'Neill nodded his head in the direction of the Stargate. "Watch, Tadeshi..."

Roberts frowned but watched the Stargate, along with Anne and Yamato who were smiling in anticipation of a surprise.

The silver surface of the wormhole rippled and a large figure stepped through the Stargate, onto the platform. Almost two meters tall, the figure was covered head to toe in metallic gray armor and carrying an impressively large rifle. The figure moved down the ramp as identically armored soldiers started to arrive behind him. Stepping up to O'Neill and the Gryphonese Monarchy, the Royal Guards started forward nervously but Anne raised her hands to stop them, confident of her safety and immensely curious about this SG-Omega.

The armored soldier halted in front of O'Neill and gave a sharp salute, a strip of blue tinted, semi-transparent armor across the helmet barely revealed eyes that twinkled in humor even as a commanding voice issuing forth from a helmet speaker. "Colonel Kerr Avon, SG-Omega, reporting for duty, General."

"Stand easy, Colonel." O'Neill replied as Queen Anne, King Yamato and General Roberts studied Colonel Avon with undisguised curiosity.

The armor was a matt slate gray but was covered in engravings, uncomfortably like the Jaffa armor but whereas those engravings were circular and flowing, Colonel Avon's was rectangular, giving it a very mechanical look and feel, rather than organic. Aware of the comparisons being made in the minds of the Gryphon bystanders, Colonel Avon delivered the coup-de-grace and raised his hand to his neck and pressed a small button embedded under the jaw and behind the ear of the helmet.

The helmet hissed in relieved pressure and starting from the mouth, retracted in on itself, falling back towards the back of the neck to reveal the craggy, tanned face of Colonel Avon who wore the look of a man suppressing a grin.

O'Neill turned to the stunned expressions of the Gryphonese and smiled. "Neat, huh?"

General Roberts reached out a hand to touch the armor but stopped, looking up at Colonel Avon, unconsciously seeking permission from the massive soldier. At the respectful nod from Colonel Avon, Roberts stroked the armor almost reverently. "It's absolutely amazing." He breathed out in wonder.

This hiss of escaping attracted everyone's attention as a second solder stepped up to the group and de-activated his helmet. The amused face of Jonas Quinn smiled at everyone. "Actually, it's an tritium-beryllium-steel composite with a nano-matrix skin, allowing for active stealth camouflage in addition to being rated for three hits from a heavy Goa'uld cannon."

"Welcome to Gryphon, Jonas." O'Neill added in the resulting stunned silence. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Jonas opened his mouth to reply but stopped himself and looked to Colonel Avon.

Avon nodded in approval at the other man, turned and smiled at O'Neill. "That would be Captain Jonas Quinn, General, and he's a member of my unit."

O'Neill raised an eyebrow and Avon chuckled, gesturing for Jonas to explain.

"I'm SG-Omega's Chief Technical Officer." Jonas explained. "This is the Mod 1 Combat Armour's first front-line deployment and we're likely to be cut off from the SGC for some time...Colonel Avon felt he needed someone with the knowledge to keep these 'suits' in top condition with little support. That appeared to be me."

Queen Anne stepped forward and touched the armor with wide eyes. "Amazing. I wish we had about two hundred thousand of these suits, though."

Jonas smiled tightly. "Give it time, Your Highness, give it time. It is my hope that these will be standard issue to all frontline troops in the near future."

General Roberts frowned slightly. "They're not combat-tested yet?"

Avon shrugged. "We've used them in a couple of small skirmishes with the Jaffa and they performed beyond expectations but we need to know how they hold up in extended combat. General O'Neill thought we could be of some assistance here on Gryphon and so, here we are."

O'Neill shook his head. "The damned things are also expensive as hell. Almost $10 million a suit last time I checked."

"Worth every penny." Brigadier Scott added.

Colonel Avon looked around as the rest of his troops finished coming out of the Stargate and began to get settled amongst the Rapid Reaction Force in the assembly chamber. "What's the current situation, sir?"

O'Neill shrugged slightly. "Our preparations are almost complete. Third Fleet is assembled in orbit and all the planetary defense centers are on-line; the 23rd is being deployed to Edo and Manticore City while your unit will remain here at Wakazi."

"Understood, sir." Colonel Avon replied. "Though you have to understand, we're a tactical strike unit, not line holders."

General Roberts smiled with almost devilish glee. "Relax, Colonel, I have several operations that have been shelved due to lack of the appropriate assets but for which you and your team are exquisitely perfect for." The General's gaze turned almost dreamy as he survey the ferried ranks of armored troopers of SG-Omega. "Oh yes, I have some tasks that are right up your alley."

As Queen Anne and King Yamato began to confer with Brigadier Scott and General Roberts, Colonel Avon moved quietly to one side with General O'Neill. "How long till the balloon goes up, sir?" Avon asked quietly.

"Any day now." O'Neill replied, equally quietly.

"Do these people stand a chance?" Avon asked darkly. Most worlds tend to crumble pretty quickly under a Goa'uld attack.

O'Neill shook his head. "At holding off Hek'at?" He asked, knowing for a certainty that Bast's First Prime would be leading the attack. "Doubtful. Officially, Third Fleet is to stand in the defense of Gryphon at all costs but in reality, Admiral Kent has orders to inflict as much damage as he can without suffering too many casualties and then withdraw to Earth. The Alliance is in it for the long haul and we can't afford to lose too many ships at this point. Especially if we plan to re-take Gryphon later on."

"So why are we here?" The armored trooper asked bluntly. He didn't like the idea of being expendable for political reasons.

O'Neill took a deep breath. "When Third Fleet pulls out, Hek'at is going to have to perform a ground assault to take any significant portion of Gryphon. The Sintesian planetary defense grid will deny him the ability to perform an orbital bombardment but they can't stop him landing troops elsewhere and making a ground attack. A good portion of the Goa'uld assault fleet strength and Jaffa army has gone into this attack and we can stop it entirely, but we can tie them down for months, maybe years, allowing us to expand the fleet as much as possible in preparation for a counter-attack."

Avon nodded in understanding. "So now we wait."  
  
  
  
continued in part 3   
  



	3. Part 3

  
  
  


**Chapter 4  
Sometimes you get the bear...**  
  
  


**Outskirts of the Gryphon System  
16:15 ZULU  
October 27th, 2009**  
  


"You know, Razor, if that asshole Reeves gives me shit over the roster one more time..."

"You'll what, put sand in his bunk? Come on, Ghost, you've been putting him on the 'graveyard shift' for the past month, that's gotta piss a person off!"

Captain Walter 'Ghost' Scott grimaced sourly as he looked out of the canopy to the right of his Sabre. Fifty meters across space flew his wing mate, Lt Commander Kirsty 'Razor' Stephanovich. They were flying a combat space patrol on the outer limits of the Gryphon system. They had only been in space for two hours but the MkIII Sabre had an endurance of almost forty-eight hours and their patrol would last another four hours at least.

Razor shook her head as she adjusted her sensor focus onto a passing asteroid. "What's your beef with Reeves anyhow?" The asteroid was big enough to hide any number of things but the scan came up negative. It was clean.

"I caught him ragging on Kalif and his buddies." Ghost explained. "His wasn't being too friendly is all, and I'm trying to send him a message."

"Kalif?" Razor asked, trying to place the name. "Isn't he with the Arab pilots that got assigned to the Prometheus? They're on the graveyard shift as well, aren't they?"

"Yep." He replied. "I think Reeves is a closet racist and I'm giving him a chance to change his views. Either working with them will open his mind or it'll give me cause to ground his ass Earth-side."

"Damn." Razor cursed softly. Although not entirely unexpected, the cultural clashes in the relatively new Earth Navy didn't make sense to her, not when there was a huge alien civilization trying to wipe humanity out. Those sorts of things tended to add a little focus to the situation but then, she figured, humans were always fairly good at multi-tasking. We can fight off alien hordes and still spare enough energy to keep the old hatreds alive.

Her wing mate's voice interrupted her reverie. "Razor, I'm picking up something weird..."

Razor's eyes fell on her computer display and sure enough, it was picking up an increase in radiation. "I got it, too. Computer's chewing in on it...the wave front is localized and increasing in intensity."

"Oh, crap!" Ghost called out tightly. "Go tactical, full burn and break right on my mark, MARK!"

Not questioning her commander's orders, Razor slammed her throttles forward to the stops and pulled her stick back and to the right. Her fighter screamed away like a startled banshee even as Ghost's fighter flew away in another direction.

"I've seen something like it before!" Ghost tried to explain while grunting under the tremendous g-forces he was pulling. "It's the signature of an incoming vessel from hyperspace! When seen from up close and personal!"

Sure enough, before Razor could reply, the area of space the two fighters had just occupied rippled and twisted and seemed to explode as five Motherships dropped out of hyperspace.

"Razor, form up, we're heading back to the barn...full burn!" Ghost called out.

Eyes wide, Razor instinctively rejoined her commander's wing, all the while staring at the massive golden pyramids, with their black superstructure that was studded with antennae, shield grids and weapon ports. "I heard that..."  
  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


"ADMIRAL KENT TO CIC, ADMIRAL KENT, PLEASE REPORT TO CIC IMMEDIATELY!"

Admiral Kent had been sat in his day cabin, going through the day's paperwork when the speaker blared out the alert. The Admiral was out of his chair and halfway to CIC before he had realized his name had been called.

Stepping past the two Marine guards at the entrance to the CIC, Kent was greeted by his TAO, Commander Farrow.

"Report, Andrew."

Commander Farrow handed him a pad. "One of our patrol's was almost mowed down by the five Motherships we've been expecting. They're okay but are heading back to the Ark Royal as fast as they can. They're not being engaged by the Motherships. I've recalled all other patrols and sent the alert out to all stations."

"Good work, Commander." Kent replied. "Now I have to spread the good news even further."

Glancing at the pad once more, he walked over to the communications station and the painfully young ensign sat there. "I need to send out a Flash priority message..."  
  


* * * * * * * * *

**Spearhead  
16:18 ZULU**  


"And then he actually asked me if I wanted to go back to his place and see his 'pistol'!"

"Boys and their toys, Sam, boys and their toys." Colonel Amanda Lewis drawled wryly.

Brigadier General Samantha Carter grinned. "You forget who you're talking to, Colonel."

Lewis gave a pretty good imitation of abashment. "Sorry, General, sir! I forgot the General likes her toys just as much as any of the swinging dicks, General, sir!"

Carter gave a snort of laughter. "You were never a tomboy, Amanda?"

Lewis shook her head. "I was raised as a proper lady, trained in the fine arts of dress sense and make-up. At eighteen, my mother was mortified to find out that in addition to keeping lipstick in my purse, I also carrying a Colt .45." She gave a Cheshire grin. "Daddy caught holy hell that day I can tell you."

"Your Dad?" Carter asked curiously.

Lewis shrugged. "If I ever did anything wrong, it was Daddy's fault. At least in my mother's eyes. She refused to believe her little princess could be packing heat without the outside influence of her fairly liberated and therefore plainly evil father."

"Guess I was lucky in that respect...being an Air Force brat an all that." Carter replied.

"Yeah..." Lewis nodded. "But then you had to put up with the whole following in the footsteps crap."

"Tell me about it..." Carter replied with feeling. "Dad has mellowed a lot with age and, of course, Selmak but boy, did he ever used to be one son of a..."

"GENERAL CARTER, REPORT TO CNC IMMEDIATELY! GENERAL CARTER TO THE CNC IMMEDIATELY!"

Heads all around the Mess Hall whipped around to look at the General. "Hell..." Carter grimaced.

"Nobody's out on ops, are there?" Lewis asked as she got up with General Carter and made their way quickly from the Mess Hall to the Command Center.

"Uh-huh. We're on stand-down since everyone shipped out to Gryphon." Carter replied as they fairly ran up the steps and into the Command Center proper.

"Report." She ordered. Sergeant Harris spun in his chair and pointed towards the communication station.

The communication sergeant sat there pointed to his screen. "Incoming message from Admiral Kent, ma'am...he reports five Motherships just dropped out of hyperspace and are closing straight in on Third Fleet!"

Carter paled slightly as she read the screen over the sergeant's shoulder but she quickly got herself under control and started barking orders. "Put the base on Alert Two status. Put SG-Alpha and Gamma on notice to stand to and get General O'Neill on the line..."  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


**White House Signals Office.  
16:22 ZULU**  
  


Major Sanford placed her cup of coffee down as the computer started to display an incoming Flash priority message. Immediately she picked up the phone and called her boss, a Brigadier General who was sat in his office, painfully completing the masses of paperwork the Federal government generates.

"Ford." A voice replied.

"Sir, I have an incoming Flash priority message for the President."

General Ford was stood behind her in mere seconds as the message appeared on the screen, having been sent through the Alliance's long-range communication device network.

The message read;

Z162232ZOCT

TOP SECRET

FM: ADMIRAL KENT, CO 3RDFLEET, GRYPHON SECTOR

TO: CWC, NCA, JCS, ADMFLEET, SAC-SGC, SGC-WEST, SGC-EAST, SPEARHEAD

GOAULDFLEETOPS  
1.REPORT FIVE SHALKRA CLASS MOTHERSHIPS ENTERING GRYPHON SYSTEM 1610Z 27OCT.  
2.CURRENTLY ENGAGING 3RDFLEET, ALONG WITH SUPPORTING ELEMENTS OF 1STFLEET, 2NDFLEET AND PLANETARY DEFENSES.  
3.GRYPHON MILITARY AT DEFENSE CONDITION ONE.  
4.CONFIDENCE OF SUCCESSFUL DEFENSE LOW.  
5.LIKELYHOOD OF COMPLETE PLANETARY INVASION HIGH.  
6.ADVISE INTIATION OF PRECAUTIONS COMMENSURATE WITH DEFENSE OF ALL COMMANDS IN CASE OF GENERAL OFFENSIVE BY GOAULD FLEET.

THEY'LL KNOW THEY WERE IN A FIGHT, SIR - ADMIRAL KENT

Z162232ZOCT  
  


General Ford read the Flash message, his lips set in a thin white line. "Hell."  
  
  


**Gryphon orbit  
16:30 ZULU**  
  


The blue and green orb of Gryphon filled the view of the starboard bridge viewports of all the ships in Third Fleet. Silently and gracefully, they moved relatively slowly in a manner that the old Earth scientist Sir Isaac Newton would be familiar with. An observer from space would see the stately calm and precision with which the ships flew, a calm that belied the nerve shattering tension that was building up onboard each of the ships.

Onboard the ENS Ark Royal, klaxons blared and officers and enlisted crew alike moved swiftly to their posts, each wondering whether they would survive the upcoming battle. It was a question that Admiral Kent refused to consider.

"Tactical, how far out are the Motherships?" The Admiral enquired as he stepped away from the communications console.

"Three light minutes out and closing fast. Time to contact...eighteen minutes." Commander Farrow replied.

Admiral Kent studied the Flag Plot tactical hologram that dominated the circular Command Center and frowned. Five Shal'kra class Motherships were nothing to mess with. Quite frankly, Third Fleet didn't stand a chance in hell of defeating all of them but hopefully, they might be able to destroy one, possibly two of the Motherships, reducing their assets and giving the Gryphon a chance at fighting off the Jaffa Legions that were onboard each of those vessels.

Moving over to his chair, Admiral Kent pressed a button on the armrest control pad, opening a communication channel to the bridge of the Ark Royal where his Flag Captain, Amanda Tyler, was running the ship. "Captain Tyler, take Group Alpha out of orbit and take us to Point Zulu."

Group Alpha consisted of the majority of Third Fleet; the carrier Ark Royal, two battleships, the Shinano and the Prometheus and six destroyers. Group Beta was made up of the still slightly damaged battleship Montana, and another eight destroyers. Group Delta was the majority of the ground-based fighter and bomber complement, almost eighty strong.

"Yes, sir." Unseen over the audio only channel, Captain Tyler nodded her head in understanding and moved to comply with the orders. Point Zulu was a preset location in space, 20,000km from the planet Gryphon on the same reciprocal bearing as the incoming Goa'uld Motherships.

"Communications..." Kent called out. "Contact the 'Montana' and tell Captain Frost to get his ship clear of the shipyard and Gryphon and hooked up with Group Beta as soon as possible."

Commander Farrow, the Tactical Action Officer, stepped up next to the Admiral. "Group Alpha's green to engage, Admiral.

Kent nodded grimly as he studied the tactical display again. "We'll go with Alamo Three, Andrew. The Motherships are coming in fat, dumb and happy. At five minutes from contact we'll send Group Beta round their flank and see if we can get him to split his force up. Have Group Delta form up on the far side of the planet, I want them hidden from the Goa'uld sensors for as long as possible."

As his subordinates moved to comply with his orders, Admiral Kent watch the icons on the tactical display change to reflect the fleet components following his orders.

"All right, you buggers," Kent whispered under his breath, "...I've made my move, now let's see yours."

* * * * * * * *

Hek'at was sat on the bridge 'throne' of his ship, 'Fist of the Gods' as he watched the Tau'ri fleet deploy, the main force had begun interposing itself between his Motherships and the planet, and a secondary force of still significant strength was moving in a long curving path around to hit his right flank.

Dre'tec turned from the main control panel to look at the First Prime. "Shall we send some of our fleet to intercept that flanking force?"

Hek'at considered the idea briefly but discarded it just as quickly. "No, if we split our forces, we dilute our firepower. Maintain formation, I want all our vessels concentrated together, providing mutual protection for each other. We shall continue towards the primary group of Tau'ri vessels but launch the first wave of udajeets and send them to intercept the secondary force. Hold the second wave in reserve."

"As you command, First Prime." Dre'tec replied.

* * * * * * * *  
  


**Strategic Operations Center, Wakazi Base**  
  


General O'Neill was stood at the communication console, talking to a fuzzy image of Carter, who was at Spearhead.

"Sir, I think it's time for you to leave." She suggested.

O'Neill was already shaking his head. "No way, Carter, not yet. I need to see this thing through."

Sam, seeing his determination, tried another tactic. "Dammit, Jack, you can't make a difference in this fight, you'll only be a distraction!"

Jack took a deep breath and tried to explain his need to remain behind, even it was for a short while. "Sam, this is the Alliance's first serious test of all of defensive plans, equipment and ideas. I need to see how this is going to work...where are the weak spots? How will the Goa'uld react? I need to see these things firsthand, Sam."

Carter looked away in frustration and more than a little understanding. "I want you out of there as soon as you've seen enough, Jack. I mean it. The Alliance can't afford to lose you."

"I'll be on the last wormhole out, I promise." Jack replied. "O'Neill clear."

He cut the connection and moved back towards the tactical hologram at the far end of the room where General Roberts was in deep discussion with the King and Queen.

"Your Highness, I think it best that the both of you return to Edo...unless of course you intend to evacuate to Earth?" Roberts finished, slightly hopeful that they might give in this time.

Anne glared at her General. "Tadeshi, we are not leaving Gryphon! If you want us to go to the Palace then fair enough but we will not leave Gryphon while our people fight for its existence, understood?"

A slightly abashed Roberts nodded and turned to Jack. "I don't suppose I'll be getting rid of your distinguished presence anytime soon either, eh?"

O'Neill shook his head. "I'm gonna stay here and monitor the situation for as long as possible."

Roberts sighed and turned to face an approaching aide who gave him a datapad. He scrolled through it and nodded to himself. "The planet's on full alert, the civilians are making for the shelters, the defense cannons and city shields are coming on-line and the ground forces are heading for their defense positions."

"What about the fleet?" O'Neill asked.

Everyone turned to the tactical hologram, which showed the numerous blips of the orbiting Third Fleet moving in two formations towards five large, red icons denoting the Shal'kra Motherships. The red icons blurred slightly as a cloud of smaller red lips signaled the launch of their regular udajeet complements.

"They're engaging the Goa'uld." Roberts replied simply.  
  


* * * * * * * * *

**Combat Information Center, ENS Shinano**  
  


Captain Francine Renato grabbed a hold of the handrail near her command chair as her battleship, the ENS Shinano, rocked from the first impacts of Goa'uld energy blasts against her shields.

"Helm, come right ten degrees. Guns, get ready for a port broadside!" She ordered, feeling more than a little guilty excitement. Navy ships back on Earth hadn't exchange broadsides in decades, now here she was, light years from Earth giving that exact order. She wondered briefly if she'd ever have to give the order to repel boarders.

"Helm, right ten degrees, aye!"

"Guns, port broadside, ready!"

On the tactical display of the CIC, the forward destroyer screen accelerated past the Goa'uld ships, all four vessels concentrating their fire upon a single Shal'kra Mothership the tactical computers had designated Hostile 3. Its shields coruscated in silver and gold energy but they held even as its own guns spat orange fire right back at the destroyers. Captain Renato smiled grimly as she watched the Goa'uld fire track the destroyers even as they headed away from the fight; this allowed the Shinano to close the range with a minimal of incoming fire.

"Guns, target Hostile 3 and fire!" She commanded.  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


Eight of the ten twin turrets on the Shinano rocked with recoil as they fired in a single broadside, sending a wave of blue white bolts of ionized plasma towards the Goa'uld Mothership. Despite the enormous velocities involved, the gunnery officer's accuracy was superb and all of the ion bolts flew straight and true. If the Mothership, Hostile 3, had shrugged off the destroyer screen's fire as mere bee stings, the fire from the Shinano carried the punch of a heavyweight boxer.

The Mothership seemed to stagger in space from the sheer impact. In two small sections where the bolts had concentrated, the shields had partially failed, allowing some of the energies involved to reach the hull, destroying two sensor arrays, one weapon mount and damaging part of the Motherships shield grid. The Jaffa commander onboard snarled in anger as he ordered all weapons to ignore the destroyers and target the battleship.

Orange fire blazed from three of the Motherships and flew with equal accuracy towards the Shinano, which had flew past the formation of Motherships and was trying put some space between them. The energy blasts slammed into the rear section of the Shinano, her shields absorbing every shot except for the last three blasts which impacted on the engines of the battleship, shattering armor, machinery, electronics and crew with equal ease. Three of her nine engines sputtered and died as explosions rippled across her aft hull.  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


Sparks burst randomly out of exposed panels and blown light fixtures, a small fire was building up out of a shattered engineering console and the ceiling had collapsed in several places, smashing equipment and officers with equal devastation.

Picking herself up from the deck, Captain Renato suppressed a cry of pain as her shoulder blazed in agony. "Damage report!" She bit out.

Her executive officer was leaning over the dead body of her navigator who was lying under a collapsed bulkhead. He looked up at the Captain and heaved himself upwards, moving towards the nearest display panel. Rapidly accessing secondary systems, Commander Frank Stevens managed to get a quick rundown of the ships status according to the main computer. "Engineering doesn't respond but Damage Control Central reports engines 1, 4 and 7 are damaged beyond repair, aft shields are down and the turrets on the engine section are out of commission. We have massive hull breaches throughout the engineering hull, DC teams are enroute, internal bulkheads have closed and air pressure is holding. Casualty reports are coming in from all decks...forty-eight confirmed dead, another twenty-nine are unaccounted for."

Renato winced and moved over to the tactical display. The Motherships were still moving towards the planet and were engaged in a firefight with the Prometheus and the six destroyers with the help of the combined bomber squadrons from the Ark Royal and the battleships. The secondary force of the Montana and the other eight destroyers were mixing it up with the entire udajeet complement of five Shal'kra class Motherships, all in all, close to three hundred Death Gliders. For all their numbers though, the limited experience of the Jaffa pilots meant that the battle-hardened veteran pilots of the Ark Royal and Third Fleet cut a bloody swath through their formations with liberal use of the AFM's. The blip on the tactical display that represented the Prometheus flashed yellow, indicating accumulating damage.

Admiral Kent's plan hadn't worked. Splitting the fleet up in order to entice the Goa'uld fleet to follow suit had made sense, risky though it was. The plan, however, relied on the belief that the Goa'uld fleet commander would be gullible enough to split his fleet, allowing the Earth Navy to take them apart, piecemeal. Apparently, the enemy commander was one cagey son of a bitch who recognized the overwhelming firepower advantage his Motherships possessed if they remained tightly grouped.

"Helm, bring us about! The Prometheus needs our help." She ordered with a wince. Attacking that formation of Motherships was like running headfirst into a brick wall but the Shinano had done it once and gotten a bloody nose for her trouble. Maybe they could survive doing it a second time.

The ensign on the 'battle helm' of the CIC, tapped her controls and the deck of the Shinano heaved slightly as she began to turn. "Helm's sluggish, Ma'am. We've lost most of our aft maneuvering thrusters. I'm having a hard time bringing her around..."

"I don't care!" Renato snapped. Her shoulder hurt like hell. "Just haul this bitch around and do it quickly." She turned away from the startled ensign and glared at the gunnery officer. "I want everything you've got on Hostile 3 as soon as we bring your guns to bear."

The officer simply nodded gravely. "You'll get it, ma'am, even if I have to lean out the window and spit at them."

As the gunnery officer moved away to organize his batteries, her executive officer came up beside her and began to fuss over her arm. "Ma'am, let's get that arm seen to."

"Screw the arm, Frank! I need you to get down to engineering and see who's keeping the rest of our engines on-line. Since we can't raise anybody, it may just be that the comm-links are down. Find out, all right? I need our aft shields back!"

The Exec nodded firmly and staggered out of the smoke filled CIC.

Renato turned to face the tactical display as the gunnery officer turn in his chair slightly. "We're ranging on Hostile 3, ma'am!"

"Fire!" Captain Renato ordered hoarsely.  
  


* * * * * * * * * *

Admiral Kent gripped the handrail tightly and an almost moan of despair passed through the CIC he watched the Montana shudder under the combine fire of two Motherships and silently explode. His ships, though individually inferior were usually able to overcome Goa'uld ships with superior numbers and tactics. Unfortunately, the Goa'uld refused to split his forces as they had done so many times in the past. One bright spot was that these Shal'kra class Motherships appeared to be non-standard. Their weapons complement appeared to be slightly weaker than usual. Oh, the fire they were receiving was bad enough but it should have been even worse. The analysts were of the opinion that the Goa'uld were sacrificing weaponry in order to boost their shields and armor, which did appear to be stronger than usual.

By all rights, Kent should have cut his losses already and withdrawn from an untenable position and oh, by the way, consigning the Gryphon system and three billion people to Goa'uld attack and subjugation. No one could blame him, hell, he had explicit orders to do just that but he couldn't. Not until he had managed to hurt the Goa'uld force to such a degree that the Gryphon ground defense forces had a chance of holding off the attack.

"Commander Farrow..." The Admiral called out. "...What's the status of the Goa'uld Death Glider forces?"

Farrow glanced over at the nearby Flight Ops station and the Lt Commander there passed a data pad to him. Farrow read the pad and his eyes narrowed. "Admiral, we've accounted for almost the Death Gliders. And they haven't launched any fresh fighters for the past ten minutes. I think we've got them all."

Admiral Kent nodded and took a deep breath. Although it had taken a terrible toll of Group Delta and the loss of the Captain Frost and the Montana, they had cleared the battlefield of enemy Death Gliders, now Third Fleet could concentrate on killing those Motherships. If it wasn't for the fact that Third Fleet lacked the strength to do it.

Commander Farrow had walked over to the Admiral gestured to the tactical display. "Hostile 3 and, to a lesser extent, Hostile 4 has taken a massive battering at the hands of Group Alpha. But both the battleships Prometheus and Shinano and the remaining destroyers have had to pull back to the Ark Royal with heavy damage. Group Beta was in a position to attack their flank but with the Montana gone..." The TAO shrugged helplessly.

Kent shook his head. "Regroup every bird we've got and send them in one coordinated strike against Hostiles 3 and 4."  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


Captain Walter 'Ghost' Scott grunted heavily as he reefed his Sabre into an ever-tightening circle. Almost exactly opposite him was a Jaffa pilot doing the exact same thing as they went round and round, trying to get on the other's tail for a clear and deadly shot. The dogfight between the combined fighters of Groups Alpha and Beta against the Jaffa Death Gliders had degenerated rapidly into chaos and fairly early on in the battle he had become separated from his wingman, Lt Commander 'Razor' Stephanovich. In atmospheric and space combat, to fly alone is to almost guarantee a deadly surprise from your enemy and so he had quickly found another lone fighter, a pilot call-signed 'Hawk' from the 18th Tactical Squadron on the Montana.

After bouncing a flight of Death Gliders and dispatching them with a volley of AFM's, they had found themselves under attack by four more udajeets. Working together, Ghost and Hawk had managed to kill two of the Jaffa fighters but then Hawk had swung left when he should have swung right and flew into the sights of the third Death Glider, who summarily blew him to pieces. Ghost had avenged his short-time wingman almost immediately but had then found the remaining Death Glider screaming in on his rear, lining up for a shot. Unhesitatingly, Razor yanked his fighter around, pushing its inertial dampers to their limit and initiated this swirling duel. For almost a minute the two fighters performed this deadly ballet until Ghost caught a flicker out of the corner of his eye and got the impression of a missile streaking across his field of view. The Death Glider blossomed into an explosion, a small scattering of wreckage continuing on in an endless journey into deep space.

"What the...?" Scott exclaimed.

A familiar voice carried into his headset that lifted his heart. "Howdy boss...sorry I'm late, I got caught in traffic."

"Razor, where the hell have you been?" He called out, half relieved and half angered.

"Easy, boss..." Lt Commander Stephanovich replied with a tight grin. "There was about half a Cohort between me and you after we were separated. Wasn't real wise to try and punch through without some support, ya'know?"

"Support?" Scott asked, eyes going wide as a ragtag formation of Sabre fighters and Pegasus bombers flew past his fighter. Pulling an inside loop, he re-joined the formation with Stephanovich back on his wing.

"I'm not reading the Montana on my scopes, boss..." Razor announced hesitantly.

"I know, Razor, I know." He replied soberly. Flying straight and level, he took the opportunity to work the kinks out of his hands as the computer beeped, signaling an incoming transmission.

"All fighters and bombers, this the Flag. Regroup at waypoint 'kappa' and prepare for a 'Sierra Strike'. Squadron leaders, targeting assignments are being downloaded to you now. Good hunting, people."  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


Hek'at, First Prime to Bast, sat back in his chair with undisguised satisfaction. His invasion fleet of five Shal'kra class Motherships were battered, one in particular having been brutally hit but was still functional, and though his initial udajeet force of two hundred and seventy five had been reduced to a eighteen, the Tau'ri forces had suffered massive casualties to achieve it. Though many of their fighter and bomber squadrons remained fairly intact, little over half of their battleships and destroyers remained combat capable.

Hek'at's Second moved up beside him. "First Prime, the remaining Tau'ri ships have pulled back and their fighters and bombers have regrouped. They appear to be readying for a counter-attack..."

The First Prime smiled fiercely. The time had come to spring his surprise. "Launch the second wave of udajeets."  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


Queen Anne of the Sword watched the strategic display with a chilled heart, her face pale and her lips compressed into a thin, bloodless line. For the past fifteen minutes, she had watched Third Fleet steadily fall back under the onslaught from the Goa'uld Motherships. The combined Terran and Gryphonese ships had fought with every ounce of skill they had possessed and had virtually annihilated the massive cloud of Death Gliders the Motherships had launched at the beginning of the fight. Now the blood drained from her face as the display showed a new, equally large cloud of over three hundred Death Gliders erupt from the launch bays of the Motherships like hornets streaming from a disturbed nest.

"Aww crap." O'Neill spoke flatly. "Communications open a channel to Admiral Kent."

A young Gryphonese technician nodded once in acknowledgement. "Channel open, General."

"It's O'Neill, Admiral. You've done all you can, now get the hell of here!"

A small window appeared on the tactical display screen and Admiral Kent's grim visage appeared. "General..."

"No arguing, Kent!" O'Neill cut in, adamantly. "There's nothing more you can do for us here!"

The Admiral, standing in the CIC onboard the Ark Royal two hundred thousand miles away, frowned and spoke reluctantly. "Very well, sir, the fleet will withdraw but I'm ordering all my pilots to land on Gryphon. You'll need all the air support you can get."

O'Neill smiled faintly in agreement. "Thank you, Admiral."  
  


* * * * * * * * * * *  
  


Admiral Kent closed the connection and looked at the viewscreen that displayed the blue green orb of Gryphon. The officers and technicians of the CIC looked silently at one another, the situation of having to abandon an entire planet being entirely abhorrent to these professional warriors but knowing they had no other choice left them feeling sick with shame and regret.

Commander Farrow scanned the room, meeting the eyes of his staff and sighed. The tactical hologram beeped an alert as the cloud of fresh Jaffa Death Gliders approached extreme weapons range. "Admiral, if we're going to leave..."

Admiral Kent inclined his head in agreement, feeling every year of his age and took a deep breath, as if to gather the last of his reserves. "Fleet orders!" he called out. "I want destroyers squadron 1 and 3 to screen the Shinano, 2 and 5 covers the Prometheus and squadron 4 stays with the Ark Royal. We'll provide covering fire against the Death Gliders till the battleships can make the jump to hyperspace."

A chorus of 'aye, Admiral' rang back as the CIC moved into action. The Admiral gestured at Commander Farrow and the TAO stepped close as Kent spoke quietly. "Contact the fighters, let them know they'll be staying behind as we discussed."

More than one ops plan had been sketched out and, of course, they had considered the option of having the fighters remain to bolster the few Gryphon planetary squadrons.

Commander Farrow nodded. "Aye, Admiral."  
  


* * * * * * * * * * *  
  


Hek'at watched with breathtaking pleasure as the battered remnants of the Tau'ri fleet ran from his carefully hoarded udajeets. When Bast had first suggested the use of 'carrier' Motherships, consciously mimicking the Tau'ri vessels, he had been wary. The idea was contrary to every philosophy he was brought up to believe in. Ironically, it was that very reaction that persuaded him that it was worth a try for the Tau'ri had constantly defeated the Jaffa Legions in battle after battle unless the System Lords used overwhelming numbers or copied Tau'ri tactics, which obviously worked.

And the 'carrier' concept had worked. He had defeated the Tau'ri fleet and now all that was left was to proceed against the planet and secure the Stargate.

"Dre'tec, as soon as the Tau'ri dogs leave the system, recall all of the udajeets and hold this position while we take a moment to see to our damage."

The Jaffa Second inclined his head respectfully but hesitated as an idea suggested itself. "Perhaps we should send some of the udajeets to the planet? It would be wise to see if there are any planetary defenses before we bring our Motherships within their range."

Hek'at smiled broadly. "An excellent idea. Send an echelon against each of the eight largest cities. That ought to elicit a reaction."

As Dre'tec moved to send out the orders, Hek'at walked away from the central display and towards the command throne. Pulling out a small golden sphere, he sat down and waited patiently.

Less than a minute later, the golden sphere seemed to ripple with energy and small hologram of Bast, barely eight inches tall, appeared in the palm of his hand. Hek'at lowered his head respectfully but his eyes glittered with unsuppressed joy. "My Queen, the Tau'ri fleet has been defeated and we now move against Gryphon."

Though small, the hologram showed excellent detail, with barely any signal degradation. "Wonderful, my First Prime. Things are going well for a change." Bast replied with equal glee.

Hek'at looked at the hologram questioningly.

Bast chuckled slightly. "I'll give you the details later but I believe that the Tau'ri have lost one of their greatest assets and I don't mean the planet of Gryphon. I believe I know what has happened to the Asgard and I've ordered Lady Asphe'kaht to confirm my hypothesis."

Hek'at remembered the conversation they had had about the lack of Asgard vessels in the Galaxy at the moment and that the only way to prove their pre-occupation would be to... "My Queen! The risk...!" Her First Prime exclaimed.

Bast nodded more soberly. "Yes, its definitely a risk. Assuming I'm wrong, of course, but I've come into some information that makes me supremely confident in our survival."

Hek'at took a deep breath and let it out, praying that his lover knew what she was doing. "Who have you chosen for this test?"

With a low, dark chuckle, Bast gave a feral smile. "Cimmeria."  
  
  


* * * * * * * * * * *  
  


O'Neill watched the strategic display with a heavy heart as the tattered remnants of the Third Fleet disappeared one by one as the jumped to hyperspace on a course for Earth. The Sabre's and Pegasus's that stayed behind flew at breakneck speed towards Gryphon, unchecked by the Goa'uld Motherships that appeared to have taken up station several planetary diameters away from Gryphon. General Roberts had suggested they were taking the time to pull themselves together and enact any repairs. Though they hadn't lost any ships, a couple of their vessels had taken considerable damage and were leaking atmosphere and trailing wreckage.

Though, even as he watched, one of the Motherships moved towards Gryphon. Several squadrons of udajeets flew before it, cautiously testing the waters as it gained speed.

General Roberts stepped away from an intense discussion over a video-link with the King and Queen who were now at the Imperial Palace and looked at the display as alarms sounded. "Run a track on that Mothership, I want to know where it's headed immediately."

One of the technicians was already busy running a projection. The General had barely given the order before the display updated itself, a thick red band showing the path the vessel had taken to date and a dotted line that showed the path it was on, assuming no course or speed changes.

"It's heading straight for Wakazi Base, General." The technician announced. Fairly uselessly, O'Neill thought, since the dotted line ended up smack in the middle of the military district. "We have more Death Gliders launching, they appear to be heading for various cities around the planet."

"Order the PDC's to hold their fire until the Mothership comes to within 40 kilometers of the surface." Roberts ordered.

The CO of the Wakazi base, a Commander Hida, glanced at General Roberts with concern. "That's well within weapons range, theirs and ours." He spoke.

Roberts nodded. "This will be the first test of the Sintesian Planetary Defense system. I want to get my money's worth."

Everybody waited for several more minutes as the Mothership closed the distance. As the Death Gliders entered extreme weapons range of Wakazi Base and the various cities, O'Neill looked warily at General Roberts, who still hadn't ordered the raising of the city shields. Raising them would instantly alert the Jaffa commander as to the presence of a defense system and Roberts wanted to draw them in instead of scaring them off but he was risking damage to the civilian population.

"General..." O'Neill spoke out softly, warningly.

General Roberts held his hand up but moved forward toward the Defense System controller. "Ready shields..." He called out.

The controller acknowledged the order but didn't do anything, his people in the room and at the other twenty PDC's had been ready for the past hour.

As the Death Gliders approached optimum firing range, Roberts closed his fist and pounded the back of his chair once. "Raise the shields. Gunners, you have weapons release, fire at will!"  
  


* * * * * * * * *

Onboard the 'Fist of the Gods', Hek'at paled as the displays showed fairly powerful shields winking into existence above numerous cities around the planet.

"First Prime..." Dre'tec spoke hesitantly.

Hek'at fairly leaped out of the command throne. "Order the 'War Sword' to fall back and get those udajeets out of there!"

A Jaffa at the sensor station saw energy signatures in the Wakazi Base increase by several orders of magnitude. "Energy spike from the surface!"

Everyone on the bridge watched helplessly as numerous ion cannons belched white fire that flew upwards with tremendous speed and slammed into the 'War Sword'. Its shield coruscated with barely suppressed energies. The commander onboard was shocked but responded with the training and initiative that Hek'at had instilled in all of his Mothership commanders. As the 'War sword' shook violently, the Jaffa commander ordered evasive maneuvers and for all weapons to fire on the ground installations.

Orange fire blossomed from the gun ports of the Shal'kra class Mothership and flew down, into the atmosphere of Gryphon and impacting against the canopy shield, high above Wakazi.

Technicians in the Wakazi command center winced as the shield power levels dropped noticeably.

A second volley of ion cannon fire rose up from Wakazi and crashed against the 'War Sword' like a tidal wave. Its shields collapsed and it hull was torn and ruptured, spewing atmosphere and bodies. Explosions rippled along its flanks and it slewed drunkenly as all drive control was lost.

A third volley swept upwards and, undeterred by energy shields, slammed into the Mothership, which seemed to freeze in place for a second before bursting forth in flame like a new born star.  
  


* * * * * * * * * * *  
  


Wild cheers rose up in the command center as General Roberts leaned against the back of his chair, seemingly drained of energy. O'Neill up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Good work, Tadeshi." He congratulated the other man.

General Roberts grinned in satisfaction. "That was for Third Fleet."  
  


* * * * * * * * * * *  
  


"Fek'shoa!" Hek'at slammed his fist off of a nearby console and fought against the urge rip the tactical display from its mount, and throw it across the room.

"Signal all ships, I want them to fall in behind 'Fist of the Gods' immediately! We're going in!" Hek'at ordered and he pushed the Jaffa at the helm to one side. "Follow this course." He added, inputting a navigational plot that took the remaining four Motherships down into the atmosphere of Gryphon, avoiding Wakazi by a fairly wide curving course, to land at a point nearly one hundred kilometers away.

"We're landing?" Dre'tec asked in surprise. The display showed the numerous udajeets aborting their attack runs after the ion cannons sent a volley up after them. Only a few were destroyed, mainly due to surprise but most easily evaded the shots and screamed into high orbit.

"We have no choice!" Hek'at snarled in reply. "Those damned defenses will pummel us if we try to fire at them from orbit. No, we're going to have to do this the hard way."

"A ground assault." The Second finished in understanding.

Hek'at stalked back to the command throne and sat down heavily, regaining his calm but feeling ever so weary. "We still have almost 40 Legions amongst our remaining vessels. Enough to take that base in a ground attack and capture the Chappa'ai."

As one, the Motherships increased power to the engines and moved forward warily.  
  
  
  


**Chapter 5  
The Fifth Race**  
  
  


**16:55 ZULU  
October 28th, 2009  
High orbit, Cimmeria (Asgard Protected Planet)**

Two Hat'ak Motherships glided serenely and unharrassed into a stable orbit above the largest continent on the planet, directly above the location of the Chappa'ai and the nearby population centers and low-tech savages.

Lady Asphe'kaht smiled fiercely at the holographic display of the Asgard protected world.

Her First Prime turned from the central console of the bridge and faced his Queen. "My Lady, we have an incoming transmission from the largest village near the Chappa'ai. It's on an Asgard frequency."

Hiding her immense anxiety, she gave her Jaffa a stately nod. "I shall hear what the gray ones have to say."

Bowing slightly, the First Prime turned back to the console and ran a hand across its glowing surface. The hidden speakers on the bridge crackled slightly and the smooth, resonant tones of the Asgard filtered clearly across the bridge.

"This world is under the protection of the Asgard. Goa'uld vessel, you have no business here. Withdraw."

After it appeared that that was as far as the warning went, Lady Asphe'kaht smiled. "Are we picking up any Asgard warships, any vessels, any Asgard life signs on the surface?"

The First Prime shook his head silently.

Lady Asphe'kaht's smile turned deadly. "Then begin your bombardment."  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


**09:38 ZULU  
October 29th, 2009**  
  


Colonel Avon, fully clad in his Combat Armour but with his helmet retracted, walked along the trench line, listening to the subdued chatter of the soldiers, stepping by the ones lying on their packs, trying to sleep, nodding greetings and the small groups playing cards, rolling dice or simply reading a book.

The four remaining Goa'uld Motherships had landed almost 100 kilometers from Wakazi, in the Tensi Flatlands and ever since then, the skies had held host to several air battles between Death Gliders and Sabres. Unfortunately, neither side could claim air superiority, meaning that the important battles were going to be fought on the ground.

The commander of SG-Omega came across an observation point where two Gryphon Army regulars were stood, heads barely above ground level, scanning the terrain with electro-binoculars. Avon greeted the two men and impulsively jumped up on the platform beside them.

"See anything new, gents?" Avon asked lightly.

The two observers chuckled but shook their heads. "Only if you count three more Legions in the past two hours." One replied wryly.

Avon frowned and raised a hand to his neck, pressing a small, flush-set button and activating his helmet. In less than a second, it had deployed around his head and had activated its in-built 150x magnification scope.

In the distance, less than thirty kilometers away according to the laser range finder, thousands of Jaffa were arrayed in formation, supported by ranks of Scorpion-class attack vehicles which could carry up to fifty Jaffa and Beetle-Class dedicated troop transports which could carry five hundred. Death Gliders flew lazy circles overhead, on guard for any fighter or bomber attacks.

For the past two days, they had watched Hek'at deploy his Legions and transport them over seventy kilometers, to a staging point outside the range of the light ion cannon artillery. The Gryphon army had numerous old-style ballistic artillery pieces and for almost an hour, they had rain fire down upon the columns of Jaffa as soon as they had entered their eighty-kilometer range. Impressive as the barrage was, the obsolete munitions couldn't deliver enough firepower to overcome the 'formation' shields the Jaffa commander had already deployed.

"You think they'll attack soon, sir?" The other observer asked. He looked all of eighteen years old.

Avon nodded. "I'm surprised they've waited this long. I would've attacked six hours ago, at dawn."

"Maybe they've got a reason to wait, sir...any idea what that might be?" The first observer asked, looking no older than his friend.

"Not a clue, soldier." Avon lied. "All I really need to know is that you boys are gonna be ready when they come calling..."

The two young soldiers looked at each other and then looked at the Colonel from another planet, who was risking his butt to help save their. "You can count on us, sir."

Colonel Avon patted them both on the shoulder in a gesture of solidarity and leapt lightly down from the platform. He'd didn't think it wise to tell them that the Jaffa in front of them were waiting to attack because the rest of the Jaffa Legions were completing an enveloping maneuver, completely surrounding Wakazi. There were only 12,000 men and women defending Wakazi, as opposed to over 36,000 Jaffa that would soon come sweeping over them in an unstoppable tidal wave of destruction. A few thousand Jaffa had headed towards the city-shipyards of Manticore but it appeared that Hek'at's main object was going to be the Stargate and nothing was going to distract him from that objective.

Especially the Gryphon Army.

His helmet audio let out a small beep and a voice sent resonate from somewhere in the center of his head. "Omega-Six, this General O'Neill. Kerr, you may want to think about getting to your unit. We're picking up serious activity within the Jaffa lines. I think they're ready to make their move."

Colonel Avon picked up his pace to that of a steady jog and moved steadily along the trench lines, his helmet displaying visual cues, allowing him to find his way among the labyrinthine trench network. "Acknowledged, General."  
  


* * * * * * * * *  
  


O'Neill paced the Command Center in frustration. As a line soldier, he could always work through his frustration by checking out his gear one more time, or by a dozen other methods that were denied to him here, in the Command Center, as a general of troops. All the preparations were done, all the plans and strategies made...all that they waited for now, was for Hek'at to get his act together and attack.

"Easy, Jack." General Roberts said softly as he approached to other man. "We also serve those who stand and wait..."

O'Neill smiled unwillingly. "Been reading our literature again, Tadeshi?"

Tadeshi Roberts grinned in reply. "You Earthers have some strange ideas but one or two of them have some merit."

"Glad you liked 'em." O'Neill muttered as his eyes fell on the massive wall display, it showed the movement amongst the Jaffa increasing in intensity. "I wish I was on the line."

Roberts opened his mouth to reply when a sensor officer called out an alert. "I show multiple launches from the Motherships."

"How many Death Gliders, son?" Roberts asked instead.

"Err...all of them, it looks like, General." The officer reported tightly. "Computers put it at over two hundred."

"The Jaffa are moving forward, sir!" Another officer called out.

"Launch the ready squadrons. Have the CAP wait until they're reinforced by the ready planes and have them all intercept the Death Gliders using AFM's only, no short range weaponry. I want NO dogfighting. Just one long-range strike to whittle down their numbers and then back to base." Roberts ordered calmly. Now that the balloon had gone up, both he and O'Neill were like surgeons in an operating theatre. No over-the-top emotions, just calm, informed decision-making.

O'Neill stepped over to the secondary displays and studied the approaching formations. The Jaffa were advancing in their Scorpions and Beetles at a steady forty miles per hour. The massed formations of bug-like vehicles were like an invasion of over-sized insects. "The Jaffa will be in contact in less than thirty minutes."

Roberts nodded. "We've no room for subtlety or tricks. We're going for Plan Bastion." He announced.  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


"Plan Bastion?" One of the younger Gryphon Privates asked dumbly. "Which one was that again?"

The Gryphon Sergeant beside him bounced a fist off of his helmet. "Next time, pay attention to the briefings."

Though things looked grim, the Sergeant couldn't help but chuckle. "Luckily for you, Bastion's the simplest of the canned plans." He pointed in the direction of the Jaffa army. "You see those Jaffa out there, Private Oeda?"

Private Oeda nodded jerkily and the Sergeant gestured to the weapon Oeda was carrying. "You take that rifle, Private Oeda, and you shoot it at the oncoming hordes of the Jaffa. And you keep shooting until you don't see anymore Jaffa. Understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Oeda responded eagerly.

"Don't call me 'sir', Private, I work for a living." He replied distastefully.  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


**Main Entrance, Wakazi Base  
9:55 ZULU**

Colonel Avon rounded the final trench and reached the rest of his men near the main entrance to Wakazi Base. He was met by the sight of Captain Jonas Quinn bent over the seated form of Sergeant Pappas of 1st Platoon. Being fully armored, you wouldn't normally be able to tell who was behind the armored suits but IFF transponders allowed the onboard computer systems of the suit to overlay information to the user and the name, 'PAPPAS, W. SGT' was glowing in small letters in front of the man. The Sergeant was rotating his helmeted head in all directions, obviously having a problem with neck flexibility. Major Capini, his 2IC and Lt Heinreich, the 1st Platoon commander were stood to one side, watching Quinn perform basic maintenance on the Sergeant.

"There, that should do it." Quinn announced as he stepped back with the body language of mild satisfaction.

Sgt Pappas stood and flexed his head once more. "Yep. That did it, sir. Thanks."

The group focused on Colonel Avon as he moved in and Major Capini stepped forward. "Pappas had a little trouble with his suit but it fixed now and the entire squads ready to rock."

Avon smiled under his helmet. "That's good to hear 'cause a pisspot full of Jaffa are about to come charging over here pretty shortly."

Capini picked up his rail-gun and turned to the other men. "Lt Heinreich, get your men into position."

After the men of 1st platoon had taken up positions against the main entrance wall, Avon initiated a private com-channel between him and his 2IC. "What was that about, Ettore?" He asked as he raised his own rail-gun and laid it against the top of the fortifications, sighting it against the plainly visible hoards of Jaffa.

"Some of the Gryphon troopers were beginning to get jumpy. I figured seeing us relaxed might calm them down a bit." Major Capini replied.

Avon opened his mouth to comment when the voice of General Roberts fill the tactical radio channel.

"All units, this is General Roberts. Hold your fire until I give the signal." He ordered.

The Jaffa Legions surged forward, the Scorpions crawling forward in an easy, flowing gait, as the Beetles seemed to stomp forward, their trunk-like legs pounding footprints into the sand.

"Steady..." The General continued.

* * * * * * * * * *

On the tactical display, General Roberts watched on of the Scorpions fire a single blast into the Wakazi compound that slammed against the thick walls and shook the building.

"Fire!" Roberts called out.  
  
  
  


**42nd Cohort, 112th Legion  
11:00 ZULU**

The battle had been raging for almost an hour and black smoke, white clouds and brown dust drifted slowly across the battlefield. Dirt fountained upward as shells impacted into the ground and bolts of energy flew back and forth with increasing ferocity.

Hek'at flinched slightly as light ion cannon fire reached out and exploded a Pra'kesh close to his position. Two udajeets appeared, swooping low across the flat plains, and pulling up slightly at the last second, pouring fire into the Tau'ri positions and hitting the ion cannon that then exploded in white fire. The udajeets turned to strafe the Tau'ri lines again when white ion bolts rippled across their path. An entire squadron of Sabre fighters were closing in fast and they chased the udajeets back to the Jaffa positions where several echelons more of udajeets waited like hawks.

Thousands of Jaffa had poured out of the Jak'ast transports and Prak'esh assault vehicles and together, they had charged at the Tau'ri lines.

Hek'at was enjoying himself immensely purely because this battle was being distilled down to the essence of war. There was going to be no complex plans, no deceptions or subtleties, just the simple application of force.

The fronts ranks of Jaffa had collapsed as Tau'ri fire poured from their lines but even as then fell, the answering fire from the Jaffa blasted holes in the defenses of the Tau'ri.

A nearby explosion kicked up a shower of dirt, which fell across the small knot of Jaffa that protected Hek'at and Dre'tec. They were sheltered behind a burning Pra'kesh on the reasoning that it was obviously no longer a threat, and so none of the Tau'ri would waste a shot at it. All in all, the perfect place for a combat command post.

Dre'tec was leaning over a large display panel that showed the tactical disposition of the Jaffa Legions. He brushed the small flakes of dirt that had fallen on the screen and grunted in mild satisfaction. "First Prime, defenses in sector nine have been silent for the past five minutes. I believe we have accounted for all of the cannons in that section."

Hek'at glanced at the display and studied the readouts. Turning from Dre'tec, he activated his helmet and raised his head above the wreckage. In seconds, the golden visage of a lion had formed around his head, the eyes an intense ruby red. Using the vision enhancements, he studied the area of the Tau'ri defenses designated 'sector nine'. Smoke and fires raged in several places and the defensive fire from the Tau'ri was sporadic, at best.

"Excellent." Hek'at acknowledged as he deactivated his helmet. "Order three Cohorts from the Reserve into sector nine." He glanced at the tactical display. As he encircled the Wakazi Base, he had sectored the battlefield tactical display into nine pie slices, for easy assignment of forces. Now that they were weakening in one sector, he needed to ensure any reinforcements were pre-occupied. His smile turned grim. "Order the Legions in sectors 4, 5 and 6 to push harder."

Dre'tec relayed the appropriate orders and then turned back to the First Prime. "What about the udajeets?"

Hek'at hesitated. They had taken heavy losses from the fighters defending Wakazi but in doing so, the Tau'ri fighters had been steadily worn away, they couldn't have that many left. "Split them into two groups. One group goes against the ground defenses. We must whittle away their ion cannons so we can bring in the Motherships."

"And the other group?" Dre'tec asked.

"Have them engage the remaining Tau'ri fighters. I want total control of the skies." Hek'at declared.  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


"Are you sure, Tadeshi?" The Queen asked over the vid-link.

General Roberts nodded resignedly. "We can't hold out much longer. We didn't expect the ferocity and single-mindedness that this Hek'at came after us with. I assumed he would attack multiple targets, diluting his firepower but his played it too smart. Focusing his forces, he's hit us with overwhelming firepower. We cannot hold. I intend to evacuate as many people as possible through the Stargate and then stage a breakout with the remaining troops. We'll head for Manticore, they're closer and they'll be able to provide us with enough cover for our retreat."

Anne took a deep breath but nodded in acceptance. Her eyes searched out those of O'Neill's. "General, thank you for your world's assistance. Without it, we would have been invaded a long time ago and much more easily. You and the Alliance has at least given us a fighting chance."

O'Neill bit the inside of his lip in frustration. "You just have to hold out for a year, we'll be back as soon as we've rebuilt the fleet."

The Queen returned his pledge with a sad smile but it was clear to him that she doubted his statement. "A safe journey home, General. And we will do our best by your people who have chosen to stay behind."

O'Neill could see Brigadier Franklin Scott in the background at the Royal Palace. It was his 23rd Division, the Rapid Reaction Force that had been deployed to Gryphon. He gave O'Neill a sharp salute and held it until O'Neill slowly returned it.

The room shook violently and the vid-link cut out. "We've lost the signal receivers." A technician announced.

General Roberts turned to O'Neill's guard detail. Four armored warriors stood against the far wall of the Command Center, silent and impassive. "Time for you to escort the General to the Stargate." He announced.

The leader of the guard unit stepped forward with no little relief. "Yes, sir."

"Tadeshi..." O'Neill started.

"No way, O'Neill. Time for you to be leader of men...somewhere else." Roberts finished wryly.  
  


* * * * * * * * * *  
  


Lt Cmdr 'Razor' Stephanovich drank the remnants of her coffee and swallowed the last of her sandwich as the 'hanger boss' jogged over to her and the other seven pilots that were finishing up their snacks. They were a mixed bunch, the remnants of the Ark Royal squadrons and the Gryphon planetary defense units.

"Get ready, guys, your birds are almost done and you go out again in ten minutes." The hanger boss announced.

The pilots were too tired to even groan. This would be their third sortie in the last eight hours, each flight lasting almost two hours. The slow erosion of pilots meant that there was now not enough to keep up an effective combat air patrol and the need to defend the base was wearing hard on the remaining pilots.

Razor shook her head and tried not to think about the loss of 'Ghost'. The eight pilots stepped over to the small briefing area where the Wing Intelligence and Air Ops officer stood. Surprisingly, almost forty other pilots stood in the briefing area. That pretty much accounted for all the remaining pilots in Wakazi. Around them, mechanics and technicians were frantically crating equipment and loading it onto trucks, apparently evacuating the base.

Wasting no time, the Intelligence officer activated the display, showing a real-time overview of the battlefield. He pointed to a swarm of red dots coming in from the north. "These appear to be almost the entire remaining strength of the Death Gliders. They're due to arrive in fifteen minutes. We've managed to pull literally every pilot and ship we've got left at Wakazi to re-arm and repair. You managed to have small rest but this is it. The Jaffa are making their final push and it don't look good for us. We're evacuating Wakazi. A lot are going through the Stargate but some are staying behind to try and punch through the Jaffa lines and escape to Manticore. You mission is to go out and mix it up with the Death Gliders. It's real simple folks. As we stage the break out, you're going to have to provide fighter cover for the journey to Manticore."

The pilots looked at one another tiredly. Digging deep, the roused themselves and headed back to their aircraft. Some of the pilots were like punch-drunk boxers. If the situation wasn't so dire, they wouldn't have been allowed in the hanger, let alone take off.

Regardless, twenty-eight Sabres and seven Pegasus bombers lifted off the pads and flew one after the other out of the main hanger.

Quickly gaining altitude, Razor's computer alerted her to the approaching Death Gliders, reaching out for her fighter with their sensors. Behind her, her fellow pilots formed into flights and readied their AFM's.

Below, the ground seemed to explode as SG-Omega staged their breakout.  
  


* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  


Colonel Avon roared as he and his men charged out of their trenches and into the oncoming Jaffa. The armored troopers of SG-Omega carried the M-205 Rail-gun, specially developed for the soon-to-be deployed armored combat units. Able to fire in two modes, the first was anti-armor mode. Accelerating a single tungsten round to near light-speed, it could down a medium strength Goa'uld shield with only a few hits. The other mode, the one they were firing in now, was flechette mode.

Like the AFM's on the Sabre, that same tungsten round could be set to shatter as soon as it left the rail-gun, leaving hyper accelerated shards that spread rapidly like a light-speed shotgun, devastating anything in its path.

The front ranks of the Jaffa seemed to liquefy under the assault. Jaffa flesh and armor was shredded with equal ease and the 120 soldiers of SG-Omega ripped a hole in the lines of the Jaffa.

General Roberts gave the go signal and the first line of trucks and vehicles charged out of the main gates. Several SG-Omega troopers jumped on the trucks as they accelerated away, so as to give the front echelons of the convoy so heavy fire support.

Vehicle after vehicle streamed out of the military city as cohort after cohort slammed into the lines of SG-Omega and were obliterated for their troubles.

At the opposite side of the base, in the Jaffa designated sectors 1, 9 and 8, a few brave soldiers held the line amongst the automated weaponry, buying time for their comrades who had withdrawn to grab the last vehicles leaving the compound, though practically no defenders live in sector 9, having borne the brunt of the Jaffa assault in that quadrant.  
  


* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  


Hek'at watched the breakout futilely but quickly decided that it didn't matter a great deal. His observers had seen no sign of the Chappa'ai being moved and if the Tau'ri wished to evacuate the base and leave him the Chappa'ai then fair enough. He would deal with them later when he had brought the rest of the Legions from Sohag.

He slapped the back of Dre'tec cheerfully. "We have taken the field, my friend. Now let us take our prize. All units, ignore the convoy, concentrate on the few, brave souls remaining in Wakazi. I want to be standing in front of the Chappa'ai within the hour."  
  


* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  


O'Neill stood in front of the Stargate as the last chevron locked and the wormhole exploded into life. Not for the first time, he both looked upon the spectacle with awe and hate. A world of possibilities had opened up with this device and still they could only be achieved though bloodshed.

Colonel Krupskaya activated her GDO and looked up at O'Neill. "They've acknowledged the signal, sir. We're clear to proceed."

O'Neill took several steps towards the wormhole but paused and looked back at the chamber and the massive doors at the far side that opened into the massive assembly area. Dust fell from the ceiling as the room shook from the pounding up on the surface.

"Sir..." Krupskaya repeated insistently.

O'Neill nodded and took the few remaining steps up to the wormhole and stepped through.  
  


* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  


Colonel Avon, sitting in the last truck of the convoy as it sped away from Wakazi, received one last transmission from O'Neill's guard detail and then their transponder disappeared as they entered the Stargate.

"He's gone then." Major Capini noted from beside him. He hadn't missed the guard's combat armor transponder disappearing either.

"Aye." Avon replied. "We're on our own."

He stared back at the Jaffa forces swarming over the charred remains of Wakazi.  
  


* * * * * * * * * * * *

The Stargate disengaged, the Iris grated shut, flexing inwards to prevent wormhole activation and the Gate Room was filled with silence once more. Brigadier Samantha Carter stood at the bottom of the ramp as the wounded evacuees from Wakazi were finally carried away.

O'Neill walked down the ramp and met the eyes of his old friend with a haunted look. "Seal it off, Sam." O'Neill ordered.

Carter nodded sadly. The Gryphon Stargate was now considered compromised. She turned to look at Control Room window. "Sgt Mendez, lock down the dialing codes for Gryphon, and remove all the GDO codes for SG-Omega and the 23rd Division from the access computer."

"Done, sir." Sgt Mendez replied over the speaker.

"Get some sleep, Jack." Carter suggested. "Your report to World Council can wait a few hours at least."

O'Neill nodded tiredly and, shoulders slumped, slowly walked out of the Gate Room.  
  
  
  
  
  


**Epilogue**

**Two weeks later...**  
  
  


**15:24 ZULU  
November 14th, 2009**

O'Neill sat quietly in his office, in his little corner of the SGC. The sound of alarms penetrated his thick door and O'Neill started slightly but simply looked at his watch to confirm that it was just SG-Alpha scheduled transit off world.

Almost eleven minutes later, the lights and small TV in the office blinked off. The sound of power generators across the base powering down filled the sudden silence.

"Aww, hell." O'Neill cursed. Getting up from his chair, he strode out of his office, the two MP's on guard duty outside his door stepped forward, trying to get him to remain inside but O'Neill was having none of it.

A flurry of noise to their right caused the two guards to pull their weapons, turning on the harried Sgt Mendez, who looked liked he had ran all the way from the Command Center.

"General O'Neill, sir!" Mendez exclaimed, studiously ignoring the guards who slowly put away their weapons. "You're needed in the Gate Room, sir. It's the Asgard."

Cursing once more, O'Neill broke into a fast jog towards the Gate Room, Sgt Mendez and the two MP's in tow.

In less than a minute, they arrived at the Gate Room and the sight of Carter conferring with Thor and General McAuley and three other unfamiliar officers greeted O'Neill.

Sgt Mendez announced SGC-SAC's presence. "Stargate Command, Supreme Allied Commander, arriving..."

By reflex, everybody in the Gate Room except for O'Neill and Thor came to attention.

"At ease." O'Neill called out and strode up to Thor, kneeling down to look at his old friend on a more equal basis. "Old buddy, it's been too long."

"Far too long, O'Neill." Thor agreed. "I wish my arrival here was not so onerous a duty."

"What do you mean?" O'Neill asked. The fact that Thor had made contact again, and was alive to do so, must have meant they had won against the Replicators.

Thor sighed heavily, as if reading O'Neill thoughts. "We have been victorious against the Replicators, O'Neill, but the price we have paid was significant." Thor looked up at General McAuley.

"Jack...or, I suppose it should be 'Sir', really." McAuley greeted the younger man.

O'Neill smiled as he stood upright and shook hands. "Jack's fine, General." Glancing at Thor, he turned grim. "What happened?"

It was McAuley's turn to sigh and Jack noted the slate gray hair and extra age lines that made the older General's face seem craggy and weathered. "We beat them, Jack. We rounded up every last Replicator and destroyed them. Unfortunately, we lost practically every ship in the Asgard Fleet to do it."

O'Neill felt like he had been punched in the gut as McAuley continued remorselessly. "A great many worlds, Asgard or others races, have been devastated by the final battles, Jack. We achieved everything we set out to do but the Asgard virtually annihilated themselves to do it."

O'Neill looked down at the smaller alien. "Thor..."

"We were a dying race, O'Neill, and it was us, through our arrogance, that unleashed the Replicators in the first place. We knew the price we would pay and considered it fitting." Thor finished. "Our only regret is that we are unable to provide you with any more help against the Goa'uld. It will be years before we have enough ships again to turn to matters other that medical relief and food shipments to ravaged worlds in our Galaxy."

"I understand, Thor." O'Neill replied. "If the Alliance can help in any way..."

"Thank you O'Neill but your Alliance must look to its own safety now, and that of the Galaxy." Thor seemed to grow in the eyes of the humans in the room as he looked around at the soldiers of the Alliance. "We Asgard have studied humanity for a long time and it took us even longer to see anything of value in your species. In that judgment, we were wrong. I once told O'Neill that four great races once watched over the Galaxies and that humans had the potential to be the Fifth Race. That potential has become reality. Humans will be the glue that unites this Galaxy as one and the Asgard will look forward to the day when we can stand together as equals in peace."

"I must return now, to New Halla. The Asgard have much work ahead of us and we owe you a debt we can never repay. It is my hope that I will see you again soon, O'Neill."

"You too, old buddy." O'Neill replied.

Thor nodded and stepped up on the ramp. Raising a hand, the Stargate burst instantly to life. The small, gray alien tread softly up and the ramp, and with single glance back at O'Neill, he stepped through the wormhole, leaving O'Neill to carry the weight of the Galaxy on his shoulders.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**The End**  
  
  


Wheww...finished.

I hope you think it was worth the wait. Let me know what you thought. You may have noted that it's twice as long as any previous story...well, the plots just kept expanding! I think I may have bitten off more than I can chew. Let me now whether you like the stories that deal with the 'big picture' or the more intimate ones that deal with the SG-Assault squads...

All ideas and concepts in the story are mine, any errors are also mine so feel free to flame, congratulate or comment.

  
  



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